


Legend of the Werefish

by Mooncactus



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: Gen, Mermaids, kingdom of the wicked spoilers, werefish, why am i writing this someone take my keyboard away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-17
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-18 21:29:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/565497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mooncactus/pseuds/Mooncactus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A request to recover cargo lost at sea brings Valkyrie close to the creatures she never thought existed - a little too close.</p><p>(Note: Dead/incomplete fic, uploading for prosperity's sake.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Stephanie kneeled into the sand, grit digging into her little knees. Her feet were soaking wet - she put on a layer of sand on like socks, and the feeling of sand between her wiggling toes made her laugh. She could see her uncle standing straight in front of her, staring at the sea. It was sunset, and Stephanie liked how the blue looked against the oranges and pinks. It made her want to crawl under her bed and find her watercolor set that Mum gave her. The set had lived there for months, after she discovered one afternoon that she couldn't paint at all, but she was considering giving it another go. She sat back and watched it for a while, before she remembered what she planned to do today, at the beach with her Uncle. It hadn't been nice enough before, and she didn't know when it would be nice enough again.

Stephanie pushed her hair out of her face with a gritty hand, shaking off the grains of sand that tried to get into her eyes. With her other arm, she stretched towards a seashell, wiped it on her skirt and placed in dry sand so it was standing upright.

"What are you doing, Steph?" Gordon walked up before her, hands in his pockets. He leaned forward and smiled at her.

"Finding seashells," Stephanie answered, digging through the sand.

"Why's that?"

She stopped digging, and suddenly felt silly. She spoke up in a much quieter voice. "…I was thinking about the mermaids."  
"Mermaids, huh?" He dropped to the sand, kneeling, spreading his much wider hands through the sand as well.

She turned to him and nodded seriously, and he grinned.

"Well, they'll appreciate that very much, Steph. Mermaids love presents."

Interested, Stephanie listened as she paddled her hands through the sand, layers of dry and wet, big shells mixed with ones the size of her thumbnail. She liked all of them, so she had figured any mermaids would like them, too.

"They can be a little greedy, though. They keep all of their presents - seashells and combs and gems - all of themselves. They don't share."

"Why should they?"

Gordon laughed. "Didn't your mother teach you about sharing?"

"Nobody wants to share with me anyway." Stephanie said, feeling grumpy that he was making fun of her, and she breathed out her nose. It was a noise Mummy made when she was mad, something that made people stop bothering.

"Hmmm." Gordon looked at his hands, clapping them to get the sand off. "Well, mermaids don't care either way. They keep it all in these little caves underground, things they find and things that aren't theirs at all. They sort them by size and color and how they sparkle in the sunlight."

Stephanie looked at him, turning her head to one side. Her hair was starting to slip out of its ponytail. "Have you seen them before, Uncle Gordon?"

"Me? Never. But my friends have. They're treasure hunters, like me, and one of them thought that mermaids had the best treasure of all. But he didn't get away with anything he found. Mermaids, they've got good senses of smell. So when a human came into their grotto…"

"They could smell him?" Stephanie said, eyes widening. "Did he get away?"

"Of course," Gordon said, waving his hand. "He's known for his near escapes. Couldn't eat sushi ever again, though. And he took a break from treasure hunting."

"Really?"

"A very short break." He grinned. "He'll probably do it again one of these days, just so he can say he tried. Maybe he'll get lucky this time."

"Why didn't you ever try?" She sat across from him now, seashells forgotten.

Gordon put his hand on his chin, like this was a very good question. "Well," he said, pulling the word out like taffy, until it sounded like eeeelllllllll. "That's the other thing about mermaids, Stephanie. The scary thing."

The dark haired girl's eyes widened. Suddenly she was very aware that it was getting dark, and this part of the beach was completely empty except for her and Gordon. She swallowed and nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"You see, mermaids have a weakness for pretty things. And pretty people. Someone as handsome as me could never stand a chance - they'd try to make me part of their collection forever!"

Stephanie giggled, though her heart was going faster, and her stomach felt a little funny. She knew what Gordon was saying, knew that he wasn't trying to hide it from her, either, and it made her feel sad and a little bit grown up.

"You'll promise me to watch out for them, right? You're too pretty. They'll try to snatch you up." He clamped his hands together on her arm, and she shrieked and giggled again.

"I'll be careful, I'll be careful!" cried Stephanie, still giggling. "But I still like mermaids. Even if they are mean."

"Oh, of course. I like mermaids. I like mermaids an awful lot. They're very pretty. I thought you deserved the know the whole truth, though."

"Are you going to tell Carol?"

"Why would I?" Gordon frowned.

"She likes mermaids, too. She was a mermaid for Halloween last year. Though she didn't look very good." She stopped. "Don't tell her I said that."

"Your secret's safe with me," Gordon promised, "and I have no intentions of telling Carol. She won't understand like you do."

Stephanie smiled, feeling special. She looked over at the shells. "What should I do with these?"

"Weren't you going to give them to the mermaids?"

"Well," Stephanie said, feeling silly. "You said they had all these nice things, like gems and combs and pretty people. I didn't think they'd want my seashells anymore…"

"Nonsense. Besides, I already gathered a dozen of them. I am not letting my efforts go to waste." He gathered his own, started shuffling his way to the shore.

"Gordon!" She called. "What are you doing?"

"Putting them over here, so the mermaids can see."

"But the tide will wash them away!"

Gordon scratched the top of his head, seashells cupped in his other hand. "Hmmm. You're right as always, Steph. What do you suggest?"

"Um." She glanced around the beach, squinting in the fading light. "What if we put them on a big rock? They'll be too high up to wash away, but they'll be all shiny in the moonlight. And… the mermaids will be able and swim up and grab them, right?"

"Perfect! Stephanie, you're a genius." He moved back by her side and ruffled her hair, and she beamed. They found a nice tall rock, and Stephanie climbed up so she could see the top. Gordon was arranging his shells into a big G, and she tried to arrange her own into an S, but it looked more like an eight.

Gordon wiped his hands off on his shorts and they both smiled at each other, appreciating their efforts.

"It's getting dark," he said, "And that's when the mermaids come out. We don't want them to see us working on their present, do we?"

"Nope," Stephanie said. She took his hand in hers, and they climbed back up to the pier and walked home. Gordon left her at the steps of her house and ran back to his car, waving, and she grinned back, bouncing on her toes. She stood outside until his car drove away, already missing him. Days with Gordon were always fun, even when they didn't do much at all.

She rang her doorbell and bounced her sandals on the welcome mat as she waited.

"Stephanie!" Her dad flung the door open. He picked her up and hugged her before she could even say hi.

"Oh, thank God, you're home. I was so worried."

"Dad-"

"You're the only one who can open the ice cream, you see, and I was getting very hungry."

"I am?"

"Yes. Well, your mother can too, but she'll just frown at me and say that I shouldn't be eating any."

Stephanie laughed. "Okay, I'll help."

"Excellent!" He nudged the door closed with his foot, and carried her inside the kitchen, still holding on tight with both arms. He deposited her on top of the kitchen table and started digging inside the freezer.

"So what did you do with Uncle Gordon today?" He asked, dancing a little as he searched.

"Well, we went to the book store and he looked for copy of his books, and signed them, and I asked why he did that, and that he said he liked surprising people, but then the man who worked there got mad at him for scribbling inside the books without buying them, so Gordon had to flip open his book and show the picture… and then the guy couldn't breathe and asked Gordon to sign the paperback he had at his desk." She grinned. "It was funny. Then we got hot dogs and went to the beach, and I was looking for seashells."

"Ooh. Good hobby." Her dad carried the tub of ice cream over to her, and she took it from him. It was heavy, so she sat it between her legs and began prying the top off.

"I told him I was gathering them for the mermaids, and Gordon told me all about them. The mermaids, I mean. He talked about how they gathered pretty things and kidnapped people and it was so cool. He told me about his friend, too, a treasure hunter, and he went under the sea and tried to take things from the mermaids, but they caught him. He escaped and he wants to go back. They're real, Dad. Isn't that amazing?"

Her dad had gone quiet, and the look on his face made it seem like he didn't think so.

"Stephanie," he said slowly. "Did this sound like Gordon's normal stories? The ones about magic?"

"Well, yeah…"

"The ones I told you were just stories?"

"But dad, this one was real. I know it had to be. He wasn't lying."

Her father kneeled slightly, so they were eye level. "Sweetheart, Gordon's a writer. He makes things up."

"But-"

"And if it wasn't him who made it up," he said quickly, "than it was one of his friends. Mermaids aren't real, Stephanie."

"But dad…"

"They're not real. Mermaids have never been real. It's been around for hundreds of years, hasn't it? But no one's found one. No one's taken a photo. None of his stories are real. Gordon's just trying to have fun. He doesn't mean anything."

Stephanie dropped her head. She looked at the carton of ice cream, and suddenly she wasn't hungry anymore.

Her dad tilted her head up so she was looking at him again. "Do you understand, Stephanie?"

"Yes, daddy."

Her father suddenly looked tired. He pressed his lips together. "Good. Let's have some of that ice cream now, shall we?"

Stephanie swallowed, gripping the edges of the ice cream carton. "Okay."

That night, Stephanie took the computer in the living room and looked up everything she could about mermaids. She skipped the legends and tried to look for the facts, but there was nothing. Her dad was right, and Gordon was wrong. There were no mermaids. They had searched the oceans and there was nothing, no mermaids to be found.

She left the watercolor set under the bed and stared at her ceiling, unable to sleep. She had been so sure. Everything Gordon said sounded real, at the time. It wasn't silly like the movies or the books she read, and she didn't think he would have lied to her like that. It made her feel like a little kid, stupid for believing him and even stupider for thinking he told her because he thought she was grown up. She wasn't grown up, not at all. She wasn't able to see through a stupid lie. An obvious lie. Stephanie turned and put her face into her pillow, trying not to cry.

She didn't understand why she believed it in the first place. There was no evidence, after all. And there never would be.

The morning after, both her and Gordon's seashells were gone.


	2. The Debriefing

Valkyrie woke up drowning in her hair.

She sputtered, grabbing strands of it out of her eyes and her mouth and her nose. She tried to sit up, but she accidentally put her hand on top of a section of it and nearly ended up ripping her head off her neck.

She growled with frustration, grabbing it all and throwing it over her shoulder in a twist, and with her bare legs she kicked off the blankets. She glanced at the wall to her left - it was always dark and gloomy in the house on Cemetery Road, but the view from her window was bizarrely cheerful, sunshine pouring through. This made her feel slightly less grumpy, but it took a lot to put Valkyrie Cain in a good mood in the morning.

Her head turned around, ears pricking up, and she realized her alarm was still going off. It hadn't woken her up, though. She scowled, wondering how much she overslept while she stretched towards the nightstand and slipped her thumb over the hold button. The time came up, cheerful in it's big blocky white numbers, over the picture of her and Alice on her touch screen.

Valkyrie swore extravagantly (and loudly) and vaulted out of bed, glad that Skulduggery hadn't came in and put her clothes away yet, because she needed them now. She made the effort to grab panties from her drawer, but the rest she just scooped off on the floor, slipping into her work pants so fast she nearly fell over. Then she had to stagger to fix her balance, bumping into her wardrobe, loudly, in the process. She swore again.

Her boots were down stairs, so she pulled on a pair of white socks with two different cuts and sped down Skulduggery's stairs, jumping the last set with air magic and landing on both feet with a loud stomp.

"You are awfully loud today," Skulduggery quipped from the living room.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Valkyrie snapped, glaring in his general direction. She moved through the living room to the kitchen, and his gaze followed her as she stomped through.

"I was about to," he replied. "But you looked so peaceful, snoring and drooling away. I felt like it would be a crime to interrupt the human miracle of sleep."

She considered throwing something at him, and then decided he wasn't worth the effort. "Just because you don't sleep doesn't mean you get to judge those you do," she retorted, opening the kitchen cabinet.

Skulduggery came through the doorway. "I suppose I was just jealous. I don't have hair that gives me a very becoming mustache while I sleep."

Her grip on the cereal box tightened, and she looked away from the bowl she was pouring into to shoot him another glare, one that could be counted on to stop anyone and everyone in their tracks.

Nearly everyone.

"Very attractive," he added, and she nearly took back her previous decision and sent the cereal box flying at his head.

"You're dead to me," she said into the box as she replaced it in the cabinet, and he laughed. It was an honest laugh, louder than his usual voice and boisterous. It was rousing to her, even if it was at her expense, because Skulduggery being in a good mood always had a positive effect on her. Content that the teasing had no malicious intent and he was (mostly) innocent, she opened the fridge and kneeled down to get the milk from the door drawer. She heard him take out his pocket watch- there was the click-click-click of the chains coming together, and then his smooth voice saying "ah," very softly.

"Time to go," he said abruptly, and grabbed her by her arm and began to drag her across the kitchen.

"But my cere-" She protested, dropping the unopened milk on the counter. She shimmied her shoulders, trying to get out of his grip. But he simply adjusted it, draping his arm around her and continuing to usher her through the house.

"Can't. There's no time. We have a meeting with someone in forty-five minutes."

They speed walked, strides perfectly matched, though Valkyrie had to walk much faster to compensate. Valkyrie's mind was already calculating the familiar drive. They'd barely make it. Exasperated, she abandoned any idea of breakfast.

"Then why didn't you wake me up!?"

"Like I said," Skulduggery replied, letting go of her so she could put on her boots, "I was about to."

She pulled on her boots, kicking her leg up higher than she needed to and nearly kicking Skulduggery in the ribs. That was on purpose. Then she pulled on her other boot and nearly toppled. That was not. Skulduggery caught her by the elbow. His other hand slid to her waist, and he helped her up.

"My, we are clumsy this morning," he murmured into her ear, amusement in his voice.

"Shut up," she muttered back. They both looked up at the large clock behind them in unison.

Without another word, the detectives rushed out of the house.

They had made it, but Skulduggery was speed walking when they entered the Sanctuary, and Valkyrie didn't want to be left behind.

He had briefed her on the way over there. They had a proper mystery to investigate, and their client had requested a meeting to get all of the details out. It involved no murders or crazy teenagers, which was refreshing, but she still wanted a case by the poolside. Especially with the weather as nice as it was, she had told Skulduggery. He hadn't said anything.

They turned a corner and Skulduggery suddenly stopped. "There he is," he said.

Valkyrie lifted her head and looked into the dark hall. There stood a boy. He had hair bleached by the sun, and a pair of sunglasses was arranged purposely on the crown of his head. He wore an expensive looking polo shirt, and an expensive looking pair of shorts, and a very expensive looking watch. It gave him the overall image that he had recently escaped from a magazine shoot and was being hunted by murderous photographers. He was handsome and tall, and he was twenty-two years old.

He was Hansard Kray, and he hadn't noticed either of them yet.

Valkyrie jumped behind Skulduggery, heat rushing to her face. "You didn't say it was him." She said, keeping her voice down.

"I didn't think it would help your motivation this morning," he replied. "Evidently, I was right. Come on. He won't bite."

"Don't even joke. I'm still mad at you. …God, do you see what he's wearing? It's like he's showing off. Taunting me."

He said nothing, just turned to look at her, and she was forced to emerge behind his tall figure, trying not to look like an idiot. She wondered if her hair was still all over the place.

Skulduggery walked towards Hansard, and held his gloved hand out.

"Mr. Kray," he said, and they shook hands. Then it was her turn.

"Detective Cain," Hansard said. "It's nice to see you again." He didn't sound openly hostile, at least. She reached out and took his hand, and used that moment to admire his watch. It had a rose with thorns for the watch face- his family's crest- and at each hour number was a small symbol, too tiny for her to make out. His grip was firm and polite, and at least he didn't seem to be repulsed by her. Maybe he had forgotten the whole thing.

"Thank you both for coming." He found a desk near them and sat, like it was his work place and they had come to see him.

"Not a problem," Skulduggery said smoothly.

"I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't accepted. I don't trust anyone else with this case."

Valkyrie raised an eyebrow. "It's that important?"

Hansard raised his chin and looked directly at her. "To me? Yes. I heard about what happened with Argeddion. It's the only reason my father is letting my consult with you two. Your work was thorough and dedicated, and as neat as you could be with something like that. You saved us all, and I'm glad I could help."

"You helped immensely, Hansard," Skulduggery said.

Hansard looked slightly less serious. "It was nice, to have a hand in the world saving for once. And your integrity there assured me that I could ask you about this case and it could remain a secret."

He spread out his hands on the desk, and Valkyrie got to look at his watch again. She noticed the symbol of the Faceless ones woven into the design, beautifully subtle. It had been created by a true artist, and it made every other crest she had seen look like clumsy child's work.

"Shipments have been disappearing off our ships," Hansard explained, glancing down at his hands.

"For most of the journey, they're fine, untouched, but like clockwork, the night just before they're to be picked up, anywhere from ten to fifty percentage of the cargo goes missing. Always in the middle of the night, always completely undetectable. It's baffled all of us and our cliental is not very happy, to say the least. It seems to me that the problem lies in the ocean itself- my main department, the railroad, has had no such problem. Well, no actual problem. There was the incident with the Hallow Men three months ago…"

Valkyrie felt her face go slightly warm.

"…But that's beside the point. I need the two of you to investigate the areas where our cargo went missing and report back to me."

He took his phone from his pocket, and on it was an underwater map with coordinates. He tapped at his screen, typing something quickly, and she felt her own phone buzz in her pocket.

"These are dangerous waters, Mr. Kray," Skulduggery said, looking at his phone. It was an older model than either hers or Hansard's, and the picture wasn't as clear. "Why won't you investigate it yourself?"

"Well, it's exactly as you said, detective…"

Valkyrie's stomach growled suddenly. Hansard looked at her, fair eyebrows raised, and she lowered her head as she felt her cheeks heat up.

"Pleasant." Hansard continued, after a prolonged pause. "It's too dangerous for an individual like myself to swim in those waters, looking for a hoard of items that may or may not be there."

"But my partner and myself are expected to go with no hesitation?"

Hansard looked weary. He raised his arm up, and opened his palm. Valkyrie was baffled until she realized he was gesturing to illustrate, "well, look at me."

"What," Valkyrie said, responding with a teasing lilt in her voice to make up for her own embarrassment earlier. "Do the sea monsters eat people with sunglasses that cost more than a new Sanctuary building?"

Hansard's lips twitched, something that looked like an involuntary smile that he was trying hard to keep off his face. "You know what I mean," he said. "The danger for the two of you is much, much less."

Skulduggery harrumphed. "And why would this be worth the effort and risk?"

"I assure you," Hansard said, smiling. It was a smile meant for business, and it made him look like his father. "I will make it worth your while."

"He wasn't kidding," Valkyrie said later, in the Sanctuary's parking lot. "I think that's more than I've been paid since I started working here."

"They didn't even pay you until last year," Skulduggery pointed out.

"True. But still. That's a lot of money, Skulduggery." He didn't seem to care, so she continued on. "We could buy watches like his. And a tennis court, to match. Turn our lives around. We'd no longer be, you know, the heathens in the nice suits. We could be proper, fancy mages."

Skulduggery slid into the Bentley. He made a tutting noise with his non-existent tongue. "You've certainly thought this through, for someone who was just mocking our client for his nice sunglasses. With that in mind, I'm not sure you're fit for high society."

"Well, neither are you." Valkyrie retorted. "You don't even have a crest. They'd probably turn us commoners away at the door. Hey," she said suddenly. "Where are we going?"

"We are getting you breakfast."

Valkyrie leaned back in her car seat, bouncing slightly. "Yes. Keane's?"

"Of course."

"Yes!" She repeated, cheering.

"All is forgiven?"

"There is nothing to forgive," Valkyrie said wisely, and she was already thinking about what she was going to order.

\--

Valkyrie was three bites of scrambled eggs into her breakfast before she even let herself think about the case.

"So," she said, swallowing. "What's the plan?"

Skulduggery brought out his phone and looked through the maps, flicking through them with touch-screen sensitive gloves. "I don't know. It's a large area, and we'll have twenty minutes at the most underwater. We don't have the time or resources to do a thorough search. It'd be one thing if we could just pin point the location, find whatever treasure lies beneath, and drop it into Hansard's open hands, but we don't have that luxury." He peered at the coffee cup that had been given to him despite his protests. His hand hovered over the rim, and Valkyrie could see the liquid shift to the sides, like an overweight man sucking in his gut. The bottom of the cup was littered with coffee grounds. He gestured at them with his pinky finger.

"If we could just peer down and find the shipments, it would be simple, but I have a feeling they're hidden away carefully." He sighed. "This could take months, and Hansard's given us a week at most. This is going to be very taxing on us."

Valkyrie speared some bacon, shaking her head and smiling. "Oh, come on," she said. "We faced the same deadline in May, and we managed with flying colors. And there was a lot more on the line than a pouty rich kid's merchandise."

"Yes, but this will require precision, patience, and thorough searching, which is not exactly our forte." He drummed his fingers on the table. It was a different rhythm from the one he had taken up to stop Darquesse, and she wondered briefly if he was already making a new plan, keeping it secret from her. She tossed the thought out of her head and left it in a corner, uncomfortable and unwanted.

"It's been years since I've been in the seas, and you never have. The only one I know who has any semblance of familiarity is Vex, and I don't think we have any chance of reaching him."

"Isn't he in the Bermuda Triangle?"

"Apparently."

"Do you know that he managed to find a gentleman's club? In the Bermuda Triangle. He sent me pictures."

Skulduggery stared at her. "You are no longer allowed to text Dexter Vex."

"You can't tell me what I can or can't do," Valkyrie replied, and she pulled out her phone as an act of defiance.

"Valkyrie, the case."

"Right," she said quickly, as she texted 'God, Skulduggery is a buzzkill'with one hand. (Her autocorrect recognized it as a name, and automatically capitalized it. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.) She hit send and dropped her phone in her lap. "Anybody else?"

"Almost all of the marine experts are in Australia. Nobody really bothers, here."

"Are any of the shipments disappearing in Australia?"

"None at all."

"Damn," Valkyrie said, piling the last of her eggs and bacon onto a piece of toast. She shoved it in her mouth and chewed, thinking.

"I'll start going through the Sanctuary's contacts. We could get a map, at the very least…" He trailed off, and his silence gave Valkyrie more time to mull it over. She thought of what Hansard said before, why he couldn't go look himself. "A hoard of items that may or may not be there," hadn't been the best way to describe a situation that already looked dire on it's own.

…Hoard, she thought, and she grinned.

"We could ask the mermaids," she said, raising her eyebrows. "They would know." Though she was mostly kidding, for a tiny moment, she wondered if Skulduggery would say yes. She found a small part of her, shaped like a little girl with a handful of seashells in her tiny hand, hoping he would.

"Don't be ridiculous, Valkyrie," Skulduggery said, and the little bit of hope in Valkyrie's chest withered and died.

It was still a good joke, at least. "Oh, come on. We could totally ask them. They're probably the ocean's equivalent of tour guides."

"No." Skulduggery said firmly.

"Yeah," she continued, undaunted. "We could definitely swim down and ask for help. They've probably got highways and signs. 'This way to the shipment we just jacked from some guy's boat'."

"I really don't think that's a sensible idea."

"But mermaids, Skulduggery," she said, adding a childish whine to her voice. "We've got no better option…"

"I have had very bad experiences with mermaids," Skulduggery said darkly, "so no, Valkyrie Cain."

She tilted her head and smiled at him, waiting for him to play along with the joke, but he didn't. He just stared bad at her, still and serious. She waited. And waited. Looked for a sign in his body language, one of those little shifts of his shoulders that told her she was being played and he was overjoyed that she was falling for it.

Nothing.

"Wait," she said, very, very slowly. "Like, actual mermaids? You've met actual mermaids? You don't mean the sea hag, do you?" She had to fight to keep the excitement out of her voice.

"No, though I can't say our experiences with her were very pleasant." He was still using a serious tone, one that indicated he wanted to change the topic.

"Actual mermaids. Like, real mermaids with tails and seashells."

"And attempted murder, yes. Are we done yet?"

"Um, no? Skulduggery, mermaids. That's perfect. We're not going to get a better plan if we think of one for weeks."

Skulduggery sighed. "No. You know I don't like mermaids."

"Skulduggery, I didn't know they actually existed until a minute ago."

"But the sea hag-"

"Okay, she did not count. She was gross and old and more like a sea serpent with an old lady on top. I had no idea that you had mermaids were anything more than a legend, let alone that you didn't like them."

"I really didn't tell you?" He sounded surprised, and then thought a moment. "Ah, of course. It was because that story was about Ghastly and I in our youth, and you apparently think that's exceedingly boring."

Valkyrie glared at him. "One time. One time, I didn't want to listen to a story, and now you've refused to let me hear any story involving Ghastly."

"You made it clear that you had no interest, I'm simply respecting your wishes."

"That was six years ago! And I was in a really bad mood!"

"Well, the only thing that matters is that I don't like mermaids and they don't like me. The end. Now, as for a plan…"

"No." She said, firmly. "Skulduggery, we're asking the mermaids."

"Valkyrie-"

"We are going to meet some lovely mermaids, and that is final."

"Please-"

Valkyrie stood straighter in her seat. She stared at him. She put her whole being into that stare, all of her bossiness and stubbornness, as well as every dream she had when she was little, every desperate hope that mermaids were real. It was a very good stare. Skulduggery stared back, resisting, so she pushed out her last resort: she let her forehead crumple, just slightly, like she was giving up.

That was it.

Skulduggery sagged. "Fine. I'll start making the preparations."

"Yes!" Valkyrie cheered. "Oh my god, this is going to be so much fun."

"It really, really won't."


	3. Into the Deep

"You can pretend you're not overjoyed about this, you know."

Valkyrie glanced at him and attempted to smother the giant grin on her face. It wasn't working. "Nope, can't," she replied, and shook her head. "I'm sorry, this is just cool."

Skulduggery sighed, turning the wheel of the Bentley hard. "I don't think you understand how much I am dreading this."

"What, do you think if I did, I'd be any less excited? No way." She beamed. He just stared ahead at the road. There was a long silence, one long enough that Valkyrie's grin started to falter. Valkyrie hesitated, considering asking, and then picked up her phone instead. Vex hadn't texted her back from the day before, but…  
 **  
'I convinced Skulduggery to go visit the mermaids. Is that particularly impressive?'**

She reread the message and then sent it. Vex, while only one of Skulduggery's friends, was the one most likely to provide information. He had a startling amount of blackmail he was willing to share, and a good memory- if anyone could assure her that Skulduggery's mermaid problem wasn't as dire as it seemed to be, it would be him. She balanced her phone on her thigh, waiting with as much patience as she could muster, and looked out the window. It was a beautiful day, sky unblemished by any clouds, and she enjoyed mindlessly watching the world go by, until she realized that this was a very familiar road.

"…Wait a minute. Skulduggery, this is the way to Haggard." She glanced at him, brow furrowed. She wondered if Skulduggery was simply taking her home first. She hadn't seen her parents in about four days.

"It is. There's a considerable mermaid population off the coast."

"Seriously?" Valkyrie said, eyes widening.

"…No, not really. There's only about eight of them, according to the last report. They migrate constantly, so there's no certain number. But it _is_ reasonably close to one of Hansard's maps …" he trailed off.

He didn't mention her parents, didn't offer to drop her off after work was done. But he didn't have to. She knew that there had to have been a more convenient beach for them to go to, one not so out of the way.

But he was taking her home.

Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, she shifted in her seat and looked at her hands. She found herself feeling- for the first time- guilty about dragging Skulduggery into something he seemed to keen to avoid. She pressed her lips together, the excited butterflies in her stomach battling the guilt. Her phone buzzed, and she caught it before it tumbled off her leg.  
 **  
'Wow. Yeah, it is, Val. You've got him wrapped around your little finger, don't you?'**

Valkyrie smiled when she read the words, reading them in Vex's warm, teasing voice, but after a few moments, the smile disappeared. Her gaze drifted next to her partner. She could read Skulduggery, she always could, and he was more anxious and uncomfortable than she'd had ever seen him. She kept an eye on him the entire drive, trying to be subtle, and attempting to figure out what exactly was his _deal_. But it wasn't until he slid out of the Bentley, body posture tense and on edge, that all of her enthusiasm and girlish excitement broke away to pure worry.

She heard him sigh quietly. He stood straighter, shook out tension through his hands, and stared at the pier. His façade was on, but it had a controlled face of pure calm.

"Better get it done and over with," he said briskly. "Let's go."

"Right," Valkyrie said, and swallowed, suddenly nervous. Her throat felt dry as she followed him down the pier, and off it, as he jumped down, not even making an impact in the sand.

"I hope you've been practicing your water magic," he muttered.

"…Wait. No. I thought I could make an air bubble, right? I didn't think I had to use water magic."

Skulduggery's façade grimaced. "You haven't practiced at all, did you? What did you think going underwater would entail?"

"I thought air magic would be fine!"

He shook his head. "That's fine for breathing, yes, but you'll need water to project yourself down there."

"I'll follow your lead," Valkyrie said stubbornly. "I can do it. Have some faith in me, okay?"

Skulduggery did a half turn. "Of course I do." He had a half smile on his lips, and Valkyrie felt a little tension ease off her shoulders. He deactivated his façade and walked into the surf.

Valkyrie shuffled after him, feeling awkward walking into the water, full clothed. It was an unusually warm day, so she found she didn't mind much, but she hoped no one saw them. It would lead to a lot of strange questions with no appropriate answers. It was difficult to walk, her boots shuffling against the wet sand and her trousers clinging to her legs. She was glad they were so tight. When the water reached the bottom of his rib cage, Skulduggery dived, the water raising up to meet him.

It was already up to Valkyrie's chest, so she raised her arms out of the water, leaving trails of it clinging to her jacket sleeves, and orchestrated the air around her, draping it around her head and shoulders. Then she emerged herself, slipping under the water. The ocean was an old friend, and she felt herself relax as she opened her eyes, taking in what was once her childhood playground. Skulduggery was just a dark shape, gaining speed even as she spotted him, and she moved her arms in front of her and kicked to keep up. She tried to propel herself forward with the air she had captured above, but found her magic hitting water instead. It was difficult, (she felt like she was dragging her fingers through a thick mixture of glue and flour) but she found that she could do it when she tried, and used the water to push herself to Skulduggery's side.

He tilted his head at her. He had no air bubble, probably because he didn't need air. He wasn't moving his arms at all; he looked the same as when he was flying. With a nod in her direction, he switched to his side and cut through the water even more quickly.

They moved silently through the murky water. She could make out dark shapes, small schools of fish, and _a lot_ of rocks, but in general the water was murky and unremarkable. Not very magical. She put most of her energy into propelling herself forward. Occasionally Skulduggery would grab her hand, direct her around an obstacle, and then drop it so she could return to moving the water around her.

Exhaustion kicked in quickly. Swimming, maintaining her air bubble, and manipulating the water all at once took a lot out of a girl. Her heart was pounding and dizziness pulled at her whenever she came to a stop.

She felt immediate relief when Skulduggery stopped suddenly, current shifting around him, and nodded in the direction of a series of rock formations scattered with shadows. Valkyrie mustered the last of her energy to propel herself down, and took in the sight of the caves with a shocked awe.

After nothing but murky water and algae and the occasional ugly looking fish, the area was a shock. It was a cluster of caves and grottos, colorful with undersea plants. Bizarrely, there was colored glass everywhere, reflecting the light that drifted down into the caverns. It was hidden and pulled away in the murky depths but she could detect the touch of someone who loved beauty, who needed everything to be perfect, even if no one else would see it.

It wasn't until she saw that glass that she realized that there really were groups of women living under the ocean. Really _bizarre_ women, who probably knitted scarves out of seaweed.

She angled herself to drift farther down, but stopped when she felt Skulduggery's hand on her shoulder. His gaze held on her, and she could read _'wait and listen_ ' from the way he stood, perfectly still with his head tilted towards the caves.

It wasn't long at all before she could hear the whispers, coming from all sides, boxing them in. The voices were high-pitched, pointedly feminine, and there was a strange emphasis to the words, whispers increasing in volume and then cutting out all together. It sounded like if someone had managed to translate school ground giggling into words. It gave her the creeps. The words drifted towards them slowly, snippets of conversations that went too fast for her to follow.

"Is that him?"

"Who else could it be, stupid?"

"Oh, it _is_ him!"

"Then who is she?'

The giggles and chatter stopped, as if puzzled. There was an eerie silence, and then Valkyrie saw a shape move up behind a rock and jump quickly back down. The giggling returned and escalated.

"Ladies," Skulduggery said, interrupting the titters. Nothing left his teeth, no comedic bubbles, but his smooth voice carried oddly in the water. She wondered if she could talk as well, and then decided she'd rather not risk wasting the little air she had.

She saw the shape from before drift up, and others join it. There was movement in the water around her, and with barely a sound, a girl not much older than her perched on a rock adjacent from them. Her hair was a shade of strawberry blonde that bordered on pink, and her mouth was an overturned rose petal. She wore nothing on her peachy, freckled skin, and with her hands demurely resting on top of one another on the rock, she looked the image of soft sweetness. Her head tilted and Valkyrie felt something clutch at her heart, for this delicate slip of a girl with the sweet, sweet eyes.

It wasn't until she saw the scaley mass at her waist that she felt the daze wash away. It was thicker and more powerful looking than the mermaid tails she was used to, and something about the way it methodically swish, swish, _swish_ ed, keenly reminded her of what that lovely face hid. She straightened, and she could hear a soft laugh from behind her. She resisted the urge to turn around.  
Skulduggery was there, next to her, the perfect image of calm and patience, so she imitated him and tried to shake off the feeling that they were being surrounded. There were only eight of them, weren't there?

"It's been a long time, Skulduggery." The speaker was a woman (fish?) with tangled brown hair and bracelets that laced all the way to her biceps on both arms; anything from rubber bands to charm bracelets sized for a child. She seemed, at first glance, the same age as the rosey girl, but there was something about her green eyes and the way her mouth was set in a careful line that made her seem so much older than the others surrounding her. She tried to count the mermaids spread in a formation around the brunette, but her thoughts scattered, distracted by their unworldliness and a feeling that reminded her far too strongly of China. But there were certainly more than eight. And that was worrying her.

"That is has," Skulduggery said. "And I came with a-"

"Who is this?" The brunette asked, indicating a hand towards Valkyrie.

"No one of your concern," Skulduggery said.

The mermaids laughed together, and she saw Skulduggery shift a bit, taken back.

"I'm sure she isn't," the decorated mermaid said, with a snobby lilt, and smiled. Her teeth were too sharp to be human. "But she certainly seems to be someone of your concern."

Skulduggery didn't speak, and the woman closed her mouth with a little 'hmm.'

"I came with a warning," Skulduggery said. "There is an investigation being done in these seas, in search of lost shipments of various artifacts. Their suspicions are leading them here. I recommend you and your pod leave until they have finished. They will certainly not bother to give you warning, and they will attack if you give any resistance at all. I have no idea how much danger your hoards would be in; if concerned, you can relocate those as well."

"Oh, they're very much in danger, Skulduggery." She said, with a casual air. She leaned forward on her rock, resting her head in her delicate hands. Her tail flicked behind her.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Do you think," began a dark skinned woman in a low gurgle, venom in her voice, "that we don't know what you're planning? That we'd believe you're here for a benevolent peace mission? We have never met, Pleasant, but I know who you are, and I would recommend that you take your leave." There were chalk white lines down her face and torso, winding around her arms, and when she bared her teeth, they seemed to flicker.

Skulduggery needed to do damage control. And fast.

"I mean no harm-"

"You sicken me. I have no idea why you have invented this tale, but leave us."

Valkyrie's partner was losing his patience. She could see it in the tightening of his shoulders, the way his fingertips stirred through the water. He spoke in a controlled voice.

"If you would _listen_ , you'd know that I'm not lying to you. They sent us first, and we are going to be the most peaceful option you get. I don't care whether or not it was you, all I need to know where this shipment is, and you will never see me or my partner again."

"You accuse us of _stealing_?" Her voice rose to a shriek on the last syllable, and Valkyrie involuntarily moved back.

She could see Skulduggery forming a come back, something that would get them both killed, so she made a sudden grab for his arm.

And then, suddenly, they were all swarming towards them, surrounding them from all sides. Valkyrie cursed her own stupidity- they had taken her movement as a threat, and she had made everything even worse. She heard Skulduggery swear next to her, and he used the water to deflect the nearest one, blocking them away. But they were fast and seemed like they could deflect and redirection his magic, and while she was watching they had managed to sneak up on her. She jerked around her head with shock. They were on her, grabbing her hair, pulling her by the arms.

She cried out and tried to deflect them with air- but of course, there was none. She couldn't reach the shadows at this depth either, it was as if they were on a different frequency then she was used to. She lashed out, kicking the rosey girl in her stomach, and she spun back, snarling. But there were more, pulling on the end of her coat, wrenching her head back with surprising strength, sharp nails leaving neat lines of blood down her cheeks. It clouded around her, and she fought to rake the air back around, fought to take a breath, fought to keep them away. She blasted herself down, weaving out of their reach, but they were in hot pursuit, snatching her by her jacket and her hair again. She struggled to glance at Skulduggery - most of them had swarmed her, but he was entirely preoccupied.

Cursing, she returned to her valiant struggling, and managed to direct the water with enough power to force most of them away. But one, the brunette, was clinging to her jacket, undeterred. Valkyrie felt her breath ghost on her arm before she bit down, _hard_. She thrashed and another found her, raked her long nails down her jaw line, and she could only jerk down her chin to her chest before the siren slit her throat.

A scream escaped her throat, and escaped her air pocket in bubbles. She could feel her air dissipating with each hit, with each clouds of blood that spread through the water around her. There were too many of them, everywhere, their fingers in her hair and their horrid giggling voices in her ears, and she kicked and she pushed, but it seemed like with every one she sent away, two more would approach, two more to tear at her skin and rip at her protective clothing with their impossibly sharp nails. She shut her eyes, and—

A wave hit her, causing her to stagger, and she almost screamed again in frustration with the arrival of _another_ force. As suddenly as it came, though, it was gone, along with the mermaids. She was safe.  
Except that her attempts to take in a breath weren't working too well. Valkyrie clamped her mouth shut and felt spots forming in her vision, dizziness threatening to overpower her. She was shifting, blasted by the echoes of the wave, and felt her body faltering, her entire body seemed to pulse. There was a whisper in the back of her mind, getting louder with every heartbeat.

And then she felt familiar arms wrap around her side, just under her arms, and immediately she was blasting through the ocean, clinging to Skulduggery for dear life. They broke the surface and continued raising, until they were hovering several feet above water. She shifted until she could lock her arms around Skulduggery's neck, and coughed and spat water over his shoulder. In turn, he wrapped his arms around the small of her back, holding her. Valkyrie coughed out the last of the water, hearing it hit the surface with a tiny splash, and let herself relax. She didn't trust herself not to simply slip out of his grasp, so she pulled her legs up, wrapped them around his, and let him support her fully. His arms slipped lower, and she just shut her eyes and breathed for a few moments, exhausted.

Her cuts were still bleeding, and she could feel them mix with the salt water and drip onto the sleeves of his jacket. The cold air hit her hard, soaking wet as she was, and she shivered, and shifted even closer to him, wishing he gave off more body heat.

"All things considered," Skulduggery said, at last, starting to move through the air, "I think that went rather well. For me, at least."

* * *

The way back to the beach was nowhere near as long as the journey there, though Skulduggery had to occasionally dodge out of sight when a helicopter passed overhead.

He let her down on the beach gently. She was reluctant to try standing again, and swooned a bit as she raised a hand to check if her cuts were still bleeding. They had stopped - thank God - and seemed rather shallow.

But she was still mad.

"And now I find myself understanding why you hate mermaids." She scowled. He dried himself off and then turned to do the same for her without prompting.

"Indeed. Are you alright?" He said, and seemed to wince a bit as he saw the water he had drifted away from her face was a diluted red.

"I'm fine. I'm just mad we didn't learn anything."

"But we did."

She frowned, pulling her hands through her beachy hair. Ick. "We did?"

"Indeed. Did you notice how calm they were when I mentioned the shipments? It has to be them. If it weren't, they'd be getting jealous, asking for information, trying to grab it for themselves. They've hidden it away somewhere. The only question now is where."

Valkyrie sighed. "We're not going to figure that out any time soon. There's no way we can go back. They despise you. And me by association. Thanks, by the way," she muttered as an aside. She found a hair tie in her jacket and pulled her hair up. "… Can I ask? Why they have such a grudge against you?"

Skulduggery sighed and sat on a rock, appraising her. "It's not much of a story."

"Tell me anyways."

"And it doesn't exactly paint me in an impressive light."

"Those are my favorite stories of yours. Go on."

The detective sighed again. He peered at her, as if waiting for her to waver, and she patiently stared back. He began speaking wearily. "When I was a boy, I would go down to the ocean with Ghastly. We would practice our magic and wrestle and coerce each other into doing stupid things."

Valkyrie tried to imagine Ghastly and Skulduggery like that, so young, and so close, but found she couldn't.

"I wanted Ghastly to talk to the mermaids; he refused. So I called him a coward and went myself. They came to the shore that night, beautiful and young and very happy to listen to whatever stupid thought that popped into my head. I thought I would be able to dodge them, be immune, and come out of the conversation with a story to tell and something to hold over Ghastly's head. I didn't. They dragged me down before I could even feel their hands on my ankles, giggling about a pretty new pet. I couldn't do anything. I was shocked and enamored and I couldn't reach my magic properly, like you. I thought I was dead. Dead, because of a dare. The next thing I remember, Ghastly was there, pulling me away from them, punching and hitting them relentlessly until they let go. They hadn't even paid him any notice. He was too ugly, too heinous for them to consider, or even remember. And we got away. "

She stared at him. " _Damn_. I take it they don't like Ghastly very much, either?"

"He won't enter the sea. A wise choice. Their hate for me is almost equal, because I got away. I lost value, I suppose, the next time I returned to their seas, like _this_ , but they hold grudges collectively, and unfortunately for me, they last forever."

Valkyrie bit her lip. "I'm sorry I made you go down there. It was a really stupid decision. You were cautious for a reason, and I should have listened to that. I'm sorry."

Skulduggery shook his head. "We learned where the shipments are, didn't we? It was worth it."

Valkyrie hugged her arms around her, and nodded.

"Now," Skulduggery said gently. "Go home for a few days. You deserve it. I'll figure out what we're going to do."

She looked down at the sand and nodded. "Alright. But call me as soon as you figure something out, alright?"

"Of course. See you in a few days, Valkyrie."

"See you." She waved, and they parted ways. She found herself looking over her shoulder as she returned to her home, until she could no longer see him or the Bentley.

* * *

Valkyrie pulled herself through the window with no shortage of groaning. Her reflection wasn't there, and she went into her bathroom to find the ointments that Doctor Synecdoche had given her. She uncorked the bottle and spilt a bit onto her fingers. It smelt suspiciously of Fruit Loops, and she had a feeling Clarabelle was involved. She smoothed it into the skin of her face, covering the cuts entirely. As she did so, the sleeve of her jacket slipped down, revealing a nasty bruise already forming on her wrist.

She scowled and found a piece of the yellow healing rock, breaking it into smaller pieces and dropping it in her sink. She dropped her jacket onto the bathroom floor and soaked her wrist without looking at it. After a few minutes, she shook off her wrist sand toweled her arm absent-mindedly. Her shirt went flying over her head and she stepped out of her black trousers, which were slightly stiff from seawater. She changed into a grey tank top and dark jeans.

She heard footsteps - her own footsteps - and the reflection and bobbed its head at her, making sure not to open the door too wide. "You're home?"

"Yep. Finally."

The reflection smiled. "We're having pasta for dinner."

"Oh, God, that sounds so normal. I'm becoming excited whenever I get to do something ordinary. That's a bad sign, isn't it?"

"Probably." The reflection stepped into the mirror, and they exchanged memories. Valkyrie didn't bother with the lazy summer days, but she wondered what the Reflection would think of the mermaid attack and Skulduggery's story.

But she would ask later.

Now, all she wanted to do was run down to her family and enjoy a few days of normalcy.


	4. Kray-zy

* * *

It was Thursday. They had five days left on their case, and they were practically where they first started. The key was to get through this hologram conference call with Hansard without showing any of this.

"Is it me," Valkyrie said, walking past the belly of the Sanctuary at a brisk pace, "or have we been late to just about everything lately?

Skulduggery inclined his head towards her. "The problem here is that Mr. Kray is one of those annoying people who are actually on time."

"I hate those guys," Valkyrie said, and then realized she was talking to the air. She backed up, glanced down a hall, and saw Skulduggery's figure strolling down it. She ran to catch up to him, and was just at his side again when he reached the door and unlocked it with a card key.

Familiar sigils were on all four walls of the room, and Valkyrie realized this must have been where Ghastly and Erskine contacted them before. It was smaller than the one in the Alps, and she had to stand shoulder to shoulder (or, well, shoulder to mid upper-arm) with Skulduggery to be in the center of the room. The symbols took their time to light up, fading in gradually like an old light bulb.

It flickered once more, and then there was Hansard's figure in perfect quality before them. The hologram was close enough to touch, though she didn't want to put her hand through Hansard's chest today. Valkyrie could see the freckles on his nose with perfectly clarity, and the light indents of glasses frames at the corner of his eyes. She hadn't even known that he wore glasses.

"Good afternoon, Detectives."

Valkyrie raised her left hand to wave, then caught sight of the bandage still on the wrist of that arm and quickly switched to her right. Skulduggery's head tilted towards her, inquisitive, and she starting talking to distract him.

"Any more information for us?"

"That depends. Do you have any for me?"

Valkyrie pressed her lips together, but Skulduggery answered for her.

"We do," he said. "But an alternative perspective would be nice."

Hansard pulled his arms up to his chest, almost defensively. "The scouts I sent out have had no luck whatsoever."

Valkyrie raised an eyebrow. "Have they talked to the mermaids?"

The blonde looked surprised. "No, they haven't," he said, dazed. "Have you?"

"We were considering it," said Skulduggery.

"…I find that hard to believe, Detective, but I would be pleasantly surprised if you did." Hansard said, and Valkyrie found herself wondering how well known that story of Skulduggery and Ghastly was.

"Of course. We have a source that they might be hoarding some of your cargo in a collection of grottos near Haggard. Now, if we do decide to follow that route, we'll need a few days to compensate…"

Hansard's image shook its head. "No. No can do. I can't extend the deadline. The merchandise must be returned by Monday."

Valkyrie bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from sighing aloud. "Alright. Fine. We'll do our best. There's not much to go on here, Hansard."

Hansard closed his eyes, expression either peaceful or a very forced calm. "I am sure of the Sanctuary's best detectives will manage just fine on one case. Although I'm not getting the status reports that I was hoping for. I'm not sure how much effort the two of you have put into the case so far." Hansard stared down his nose at her, brown eyes haughty, and Valkyrie face heated with anger.

She shifted, baring her teeth, ready to spit angry words in Kray's smug face, until she felt Skulduggery bony fingers around her arm, physically pulling her back a fraction.

"Valkyrie," he said, so low and with so little movement that only she noticed. His voice was a warning.

She started, as if jolted by electricity. A rush of cool washed over her, extinguishing her anger and the heat blasting through her body, as suddenly as it had came. She blinked, stunned. Hansard was staring at her if he had expected this, and so she felt no need to apologize. Even with the random rush of anger gone, he was still rude and smug and awful.

"I'd suggest you'd make a move on the case. Before it is too late." Hansard said smoothly, and his hologram's eyes flicked towards where Skulduggery's hand still held her. Skulduggery didn't let go, and instead turned to look directly at him.

"We will manage this case as well as we always do, Kray, and we will have your cargo back to you in a few days time."

"Thank you," Hansard said coolly, and his image flicked off without another word. Skulduggery let go of her arm.

Valkyrie resisted the urge to make a rude gesture towards the spot where his hologram had been. She sighed, angrily, and turned to Skulduggery.

"God, he's turning out to be exactly like his dad. Rude and pompous and a…" She trailed off, making a frustrated noise. "I hope he gets fat and ugly like him, too."

Skulduggery tilted his head, looking completely thrown. "Where is this coming from? I didn't think you hated him quite this much."

"That was before I had to work with him," she answered, deciding not to mention her random flash of anger.

"So it has nothing to do with him not taking your number?"

"No. And don't talk about that," she snapped.

"Yes, dear, sorry, dear." Skulduggery said quickly and Valkyrie struggled not to smile, pressing her lips together to keep one from escaping.

"I can arrange this so you don't have to talk to him anymore..."

"No, no, it's fine. I want to see the look on his face when we finish this case and he has to pay me all of that money. I want that money. And his watch. Can we ask for his watch?"

"Why on earth would you want his family's watch?"

"Because then I could pretend I stole it."

"Or you could _actually_ steal it."

Valkyrie gave in and laughed. It was tempting. She pulled her hair out of her eyes.

Skulduggery traced the movement, his skull tilting to the right as her arm dropped back to her side. "What is that?"

"Huh?"

"On your wrist," he said, grabbing her arm again. She winced, trying to pull out of his grasp.

"Nothing, really."

Skulduggery pulled her towards him gently, and pulled her sleeve back. He cupped the back of her hand with his own, and raised it to his face. She looked away as he examined the bandage stuck to the pale skin of her wrist.

"Did you get attacked by a mugger again?"

"What?"

"You're healing it the mortal way. Why?"

"Because it won't heal the magic way," she muttered.

Skulduggery's eye sockets peered over her curled fingers. "And why didn't you tell me you had a wound that wouldn't heal?"

"Because I wanted to relax for two days," Valkyrie muttered, hanging her head.

Skulduggery sighed. "May I?"

"Go ahead."

He pealed off the large band-aid with a caution that came with someone who wasn't used to them, and revealed the large bruise beneath. It had colored rings, and looked like she had used her wrist as a hammer. And then was bitten by spiders. Ten spiders.

Skulduggery had gone silent, and it then that Valkyrie realized she really should have said something before, when she realized the bite wasn't going away as it should. He recognized it. And that was not a good thing.

"…How bad is it?" She asked, wince in her voice.

"Um."

Valkyrie's forehead crumpled. "I really don't like the sound of that."

"No, it's not… it's not, ah, deadly, it's just… I don't know how to say this."

"Say _what_?"

"…Um."

Valkyrie took her wrist back, and hid the wound with her sleeve, as if it would make it go away. "Just explain. Tell me the whole thing."

Skulduggery still looked awkward. He held a hand to his forehead, as if pinching the bridge of a nose that no longer existed. "Give me a second."

"Just say it!"

Skulduggery exhaled. "Do you remember when we hunted down Ed Stynes in April?"

"Yes," Valkyrie said, not liking where this story was going.

"You're not a werewolf," he said quickly, and she sighed with relief. "But, ah, do you remember what I said about werefish?"

"…Uh huh."

"The thing," Skulduggery said, moving his hand through the air as he spoke, "about werefish, is they have more than one name. The mortals had chosen a different one when they had discovered the legend, and, despite some mage's beliefs, they do have a profound influence on us. So that name stuck, and the word 'werefish' faded to obscurity. But it was still accurate. They shared traits with werewolves, a similar transformation from human to hybrid, that hybrid being a combination of human and animal. It was accurate. But it was just that it wasn't the most attractive name, and it fell out of favor. I wasn't lying to you that day. Werefish exist, and…" He trailed off. She could hear him swallow. "And you happened to be bitten by one."

Valkyrie felt herself going very, very pale. "And the mortal name for werefish…"

"...Is mermaid, yes."

The room was spinning. Valkyrie stared at the wall behind Skulduggery until she could feel her vision stabilize again.

"No," she said, in a quiet voice.

"I'm sorry."

"There's no bloody way."

Skulduggery tilted his head, sympathetic. "Were you bitten by a mermaid the other day?"

"Yes, but…"

"And you're a girl between the ages of fourteen and twenty three," he added.

"But the cure…"

"Is unknown. I'm sorry."

Valkyrie opened her mouth and then closed it. She paced the room for a few minutes, and Skulduggery sunk into a sofa.

"I was bitten," she said, very quietly, very slowly. "And now I'm going to be werefish."

"…The common term is mermaid."

"I'm going to be," she said slowly, "a werefish."

"Yes."

"A werefish."

He nodded.

"A _mermaid_."

"That's… yes. Are you going to be okay?"

And then, with no preamble, Valkyrie found herself yelling at the top of her lungs. "A mermaid? A bloody _mermaid_? Skulduggery, I live on the PIER! You couldn't inform me to watch out for GOD DAMN MERMAID BITES?"

"It's really not that bad," Skulduggery said, attempting damage control.

"Yes! Yes it bloody is! It is that bad! It is absolutely that bad. It is worse then that bad. It is terri-bad. A mermaid. Oh my God. A _mermaid_."

"Are you going to start hyperventilating?"

"I don't know, maybe," Valkyrie said quickly. "Is that the first step? Am I going to stop breathing, and just like, flop on the floor? Seriously, I don't know, because YOU NEVER TOLD ME I WAS GOING TO BE A BLOODY MERMAID!"

"Please don't freak out."

"It's a little too late for that!" Valkyrie yelled. "A MERMAID."

At this point, Skulduggery stepped back and gave up, letting her yell and pace the room until she had tired herself out and had returned to the world of logic, where girls who were turning into mermaids had no place.

"What am I going to do? What about the case? We only have a few days, and now we have to worry about _this_ …"

Skulduggery looked up. "This… could be seen as an advantage there, honestly."

"How?"

"You can enter their domain now and they can't hurt you. You're one of their sisters, bitten by one of them. You'll be able to investigate undaunted. They might not even suspect you."

"I have no intention of going near salt water, thank you. I've seen the movies."

"…You're going to have to. Otherwise you'll just turn on your own, and, ah… werefish do not exactly last long outside of water."

Valkyrie stared at him. She could feel the anger building in her gut again, that desire to lash out. Skulduggery was saying something but she couldn't hear over the roar in her ears. She looked at her partner, seated and still, completely normal, not turning into a monster, and suddenly she wanted to scream. Her fingers curled and she felt a swallow rock through her frame, and she glared at him, teeth gritted.

"I can't believe you," she said, suddenly feeling like she was going to cry.

"Valkyrie…"

She straightened and blinked hard, and then walked out the door.

"Valkyrie?" She heard Skulduggery's voice behind her, confused, and she slammed the door. She went to wipe her eyes with her jacket sleeve, but the tears had disappeared as suddenly as they had come. She pulled her hair back with both hands, and shook out her wrists in a frustrated attempt to stop them from shaking. Taking a deep breath, Valkyrie stormed through the back door to the parking lot.

There she stood, back against the wall of the building, breathing hard. Her vision had gone weird again, and she glared at a tree until it settled. She saw the Bentley, underneath the shade of the tree, and her hand went to the spare key in her pocket, wanting to take it, maybe just to imagine Skulduggery's reaction to his partner running off with his car. His damn car, that he fussed and worried about, always. She shook her head violently, and forced herself to not think about the Bentley and the strangely tempting way it sat in the parking lot. Valkyrie would get a ride and go home.

She swallowed and looked up, trying to regain her composure to the point where she felt comfortable talking to someone, when she saw freckled legs dangling from a tree. A rounded face peered at her curiously, blue hair bedraggled with twigs, and Valkyrie looked away, not wanting to deal with Clarabelle right now.

She walked up to a woman- Marcel, with short, dark hair, who lowered her phone from her ear and looked at her.

"Hi," Valkyrie said, as if she asked Sanctuary agents whom she barely knew for rides every day. "Skulduggery's working on a case late, and I need a ride, so…"

"Of course!" The woman hung up and smiled at her. "After everything you've done…"

Valkyrie shifted from foot to foot, feeling Clarabelle's owlish gaze on her. Her emotions and head had started to settle, but the idea of going back to Skulduggery made her cringe. And she was still mad about his expectations for her and what she was going to do with this… disease.

So she sat in the back of Miss Marcel's car and pulled her legs up, wondering how much longer she would have them.

* * *

"You're home earlier than expected."

Valkyrie glared through her hair, heaving herself up onto the window. The Reflection grabbed her by the elbows and helped her through.

"…You're too angry to speak?" The reflection guessed, and Valkyrie nodded. It went to the mirror to observe the memories Valkyrie couldn't find the word to describe, and stepped out again a second later.

"…Wow."

"I know."

"I mean… wow. I'm surprised he didn't warn you. I suppose he didn't think it was that much of a risk."

"It's because he doesn't care," Valkyrie growled, "because he's insensitive and rude and just wants to use me as a pawn for the case…"

The reflection gave her a look, but it didn't say anything. It went to her bed and folded clothing. She gathered that was what it had been doing before she came in. When had she _ever_ folded clothing of her own free will?

"I'm just so angry that he didn't warn me. I would have been a lot more careful if I knew what the hell one of their bites meant. But no," she said, glaring, "not a hint."

"Well," the reflection said. "You did want to be a mermaid when you were six…"

"Oh, shut up. That's not helping."

"You _did_."

Valkyrie scowled and sat in the chair opposite her bed, quiet for a few minutes, mulling over the events of the last hour. She spoke up at last.

"I'm going to be a mutant. A werefish. I just…" She laughed, suddenly. "Oh god, this is ridiculous. A werefish. How can I be so angry about turning into a _werefish_?"

"Werefish," the reflection echoed. "Wow, that is weird to say." It stretched the sounds out, amused.

Valkyrie raised her eyebrow, quietly agreeing, and held her hand to her temple. She was getting a headache. Her phone rang, the first few bars of Michael Bublé's Me and Mrs Jones, and she ignored it.

She wondered if she should go see her family, but part of her felt like they'd know something was wrong with her. So she sulked quietly instead, looking at her feet. Her distress seemed to reach her reflection.

"Things will work out. They always will. And I'm sure someone has the cure, if mermaids has been around for so long," the Reflection said, sounding sympathetic. "And I know you don't want to hear it, but Skulduggery has a point. As long as you're stuck like this, you might as well work on the case. Even if it's just to show Hansard that you can do it."

Valkyrie grumbled a noise in what may have been agreement, refusing to accept that she may have overreacted. She rested her chin on her knees. "Hey," she said suddenly. "I should call Carol. She loved mermaids as much as I did."

The Reflection stared at her, looking bored. "Oh, maybe not. It might break her heart, to know how nasty they are."

"But…"

"And she's busy with school," it continued. "You can tell her later, when you're not worrying about turning into a fish."

"Right, yeah, you've got a point. I guess I just need something to _do_. I feel like a ticking time bomb." She didn't say it, but she had a feeling that the reflection understood why she didn't go downstairs. She felt too exposed, too diseased, like something was wrong with her and it was obvious to everyone.

Her phone began to hum "Me and Mrs Jones" once more, and she glared at it, turning it off.

The reflection pulled a sweater towards itself and folded the sleeves. "Isn't that Skulduggery's ring tone?"

"Yeah?" She had chosen it because he hated the cover so much, and was always demanding she changed it to a _proper_ version. She had retorted that she'd only change it if she could record him, and he had shut up after that.

"…How many time has he called since you left?"

"God, like, six or seven. Why?"

The reflection just turned to look at the window.

"Oh. Oh, God, he's going to be here any minute, isn't he?" She made a frustrated noise. "Why can't he just let me be angry in peace?"

She jumped when she heard the sound of dress shoes scraping against her roof. "Go," she hissed at the reflection, making shooing motions towards the mirror. It scrambled in quickly, flinging a t-shirt onto the bed.

She threw open the window before he could even tap, and glared down at him.

"What do you want?"

He looked rather sheepish like this, clinging to her roof like a cat. "To apologize?"

"Go ahead."

"Can I come in-?"

"No."

Skulduggery gave her a look, and attempted to look more dignified, failing miserably. He gave up and settled for a comfortable hold. "Clarabelle talked to me after you left, you know. Told me that we shouldn't fight. I'm surprised you told on me."

"I didn't," Valkyrie said, raising an eyebrow. "Sill waiting for that apology…"

Skulduggery sighed. "I'm not sure exactly what I did to hurt you, Valkyrie, but I'm sorry. I really am. I would never try to hurt you or your feelings..."

Valkyrie pressed her lips together. "Well, you were being really insensitive about the entire thing."

"…I thought you didn't want me sensitive," he mumbled.

Valkyrie opened her mouth, and then closed it. "But… that's… Shut up," she said finally. "You didn't respond like the situation… required."

"I'm not exactly known for my tact, Valkyrie," he responded. He looked at her for a moment and his voice softened. "But I really am sorry. I didn't… I care more about you than the case," he said, genuinely, sounding so distraught she felt ashamed that the thought even popped into her head. "And I will be searching for your cure to the best of my ability. And I won't make you do anything you don't want to." He tilted his head at her, something she recognized as a smile. "You can live in the bathtub, if you need to."

Delaying her response, Valkyrie stretched out, hands on the window, hanging her head down. She sighed loudly and straightened. "I'm going to do it. I'm going to investigate the mermaids. I'm not happy about it, but I'll do it."

She didn't let Skulduggery say anything, only opened the window wider so he could come inside. He hopped up on to her sill, and then jumped down onto the floor of her room and straightened. It was very hard not to laugh. He glanced around, and nodded at the pile of folded clothes with approval.

"You'll really do it?"

"Yes. But there's no way I'm wearing seashells," she mumbled, arms crossed.

"…You mean B-shells," Skulduggery said quietly.

Valkyrie blinked. "…What?"

"Nothing."


	5. From Bad to Worse

Valkyrie's wrist was throbbing. She cradled it with her right hand, sitting on her bedspread. It was a different kind of throb from the one when she shunted, but it was similar enough to make her all nervous and shivery. She wished Skulduggery was here, but she had sent him off to look for her cure, and he had been too worried to even protest leaving her. And now she was alone, with the mental torment of knowing her transformation was getting closer and closer.

She pressed her wrist into her stomach and curled up, legs crossed and her feet tucked beneath her. Her breath came out in a hiss. Actually feeling pain was rare for her, these days. Or at least, not extended pain. She could wish it all away with leaves or she'd go unconscious before it could get used to it. This was different. This was a nagging pain, that didn't fade and wasn't strong enough to take her away. And it was getting sharper, more acute, and all Valkyrie could do was bite her lip and curl deeper into herself.

This was not going to work.

If all she could do now was wait, she would prefer not having to worry about popping scales in her bedroom. She strode to her wardrobe and removed a black bathing suit, stripping and changing into it as quickly as she could. She decided to put a grey sweatshirt over that, and pulled her hair and the top's strings out from the hood. She stared at herself in the mirror.

It wasn't exactly her preferred battle armor, but it would do, in case she was seen by anyone.  
She released the reflection without any words exchanged, and then pushed her feet into sandals that sat, abandoned, by her door. Valkyrie glanced at the window, but didn't trust her wrist to take any weight while dangling out the sill. So instead, she took a sharp breath, as if pushing out all sound, and slipped through her door.

She ran down stairs silently, skipping the last step, and was almost out the door before she spotted her father with Alice. Or rather, he spotted her.

Valkyrie straightened, hoping he hadn't noticed she had been hunched over with pain.

"Heading to the beach, Steph?" He had cornered her in the hallway, just by standing just off to the side of the door. It was a strangely Fergus-like movement. Her peered at her curiously, and she grabbed her wrist and pulled the sleeve down even further.

"Yep," Valkyrie answered after a pause, forcing cheerfulness into her voice. "It's a really nice day…"

"Going to be crowded," her father replied, raising an eyebrow. Valkyrie winced.

"Greaaaat," she said, not bothering to hide her discouragement. Her wrist pulsed with pain under her locked fingers and she jumped towards the door. "I've got to, um, get going now, so…"

"Watch out for boys," Valkyrie's father called, ascending the stairs.

"Will do?" Valkyrie frowned. She wasn't sure if it was boys she should be worrying about. She opened the door with her good arm and closed it soundly behind her, shaking off the feeling that she wouldn't be coming back.

* * *

The beach _was_ crowded. It had spilled close to the pier, and they were teenagers she didn't know sitting on it, legs dangling, talking to each other. She glowered at them through her hair. It wasn't like she was asking for much, she thought, pushing past them, hearing catcalls. Couldn't a girl get some peace and quiet when she was mutating into a _fish_? Mage society, she thought, would at least understand. Scowling at the actions of a particularly forward redhead, she ducked under the supports to escape, the water splashing at her ankles.

Valkyrie swallowed and stole another glance at her wrist. It was turning green-ish. Skulduggery had told her that mermaids normally bit on the ankle. She hoped this didn't mean she was going to have a weird arm fin or something. She looked for scales, turning her wrist over and back, and found none, which was somewhat reassuring.

Now she was here, she felt stupid, pointless. She rubbed her arms and leaned against a support, eyes squinted at the horizon. There she stood, just staring, for a long while, only awakened by the cold water splashing over the tops of her sandals. She took them off, and her hoodie as well, throwing them haphazardly by one of the supports. Or at least, she hoped they looked abandoned: her phone was hidden in the folds of the shirt. She kicked a bit of sand over the bundle with her bare foot, and nodded, content.  
She pulled back as another spasm of pain hit, clenching her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut. As it hit, she could hear ringing in her ears…

She frowned. No, that wasn't quite right. It didn't sound exactly like ringing in her ears – it was almost melodious. Valkyrie's eyes opened, and she bit down on her lip, focusing. The sound was faint, focused just beyond the tip of her nose. She instinctively took a step forward, and the whine increased. Step by step, matching her heel to the tips of her toes as she walked, she focused and honed the sounds, until she was in the surf, the cold of the brine dissipating the pain.

But the noise got louder. It wasn't coming from _her_ , or from anywhere in her messed up head. It wasn't Darquesse, who was low and casual, flitted into her thoughts naturally. This noise was everything, and pointedly not from her head. It was an intrusion in her head, and it was proud of it, demanding attention. It was all she could focus on- she had to push it away for a moment just to make an air bubble as she dipped deeper – and she had started to discern a repeating pattern in the pitch. Bubble neat and together around her head, she dived below the surf – and it hit her.

Music. She was hearing music.

As much as Valkyrie would have liked to believe she was simply stressed out and hearing things, the voices in unearthly wail were vaguely familiar, and there was, of course, the fact that it had increased in volume when she had went under. Feeling nervous, she observed her surroundings – she had dived deep in her stupor. She shivered and kicked her legs, happy to go back to the surface and avoid her creepy mermaid ring tone.

She pushed up, and a cascade of bubbles left her air helmet. A feeling in her gut, close to the one she felt in that duct in Mien's prison, bubbled, and she kicked up faster, desperately. The surface seemed impossibly far away. More bubbles left, until she was struggling to breathe.

And there was no Skulduggery to rescue her, not this time.

She kicked again, but her legs weren't moving right, she felt them locking together, leaving her trapped, and her magic was going, going, gone, and the music was louder and louder and _louder_ and her skin was on fire…

_I_ , she thought, reflecting just before she went unconscious, _probably should have seen this coming_.

And then there was nothing but the waves, swallowing her whole.

* * *

"Oh! She's coming to."

Valkyrie groaned, hands tightening beneath her. Her eyes wouldn't open, stuck shut by… something. She pushed herself upwards, palms skating across rock, and felt hands (soft skin with long, tapered fingers- women's hands) gently pushing her up, holding her steady. She felt herself relax, even against her fear, the support reminding her of when her mum used to gently lift her out of bed when she was sick.

  
She lurched forward, still blind, and another hand joined the others, tightening around her bicep. She felt sharp nails lightly scratch her skin, and her blood went cold.

Mermaids.

She dragged her arms up to wipe at her eyes, rubbing salt away from her eyelashes, and pinched and pulled to get her eyes open as fast she could. Her vision cleared and her fear was confirmed.  
She sat on a rock, feeling uncomfortably not-on-land, surrounded by four young women who were not quite all human.

A sharp gasp escaped her mouth, releasing a stream of bubbles, and she rocked back involuntarily. Hands found her again, supporting her, and she tried not to cringe.

"Hello, sleepy head."

Valkyrie didn't want to look. She didn't want to be here, feeling water gathering at the sides of her neck whenever she took a breath. She wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed her arms around herself. She didn't trust herself to attempt to move her legs, in case she fainted again.

Or what used to be her legs.

"Leave her alone, Tallya," scoffed another. Valkyrie felt a reassuring backrub. "She just transformed. It's not easy, even though you're too much of an old cow to remember."

"I'm just kidding around," Tallya hissed. The cadence was familiar, and Valkyrie turned, finding the dark skinned woman from earlier. The woman caught her staring and gave a small smile. Her teeth were still too sharp, and Valkyrie tried not to cringe.

Her hand drifted down, knuckles scraping across scales. She forced her chin downward to look.

She was expecting it, but she still rocked with a shudder when she looked at her tail. Someone had positioned her so that it was lying almost completely straight, except for the fins, which were curved, the tip of one trapped beneath the end of her scales.

Experimentally, she reached out and moved like she was wiggling her toes, and the fin unfurled. Valkyrie shuddered again. At the very least, it was a rather respectable black. Her bathing suit bottom was gone (hopefully off to some sort of magical transformation storage facility, because she liked that one) but she could feel her top's strings reassuringly around her chest and neck.

"What happened?" she breathed out the words in a whisper, still cautiously running her hand down the scales.

"You came here to transform, and you fainted when it was too much for you," replied a blonde, who she thought she recognized from the attack. "So we brought you over here."

"So glad you did this willingly," chirped the mermaid who had defended her from Tallya earlier. "I knew you would. _They_ all thought you would die first!"

"Uh, no," Valkyrie said, still whoozy. "Mermaid. Whoo. So much better than dying."

"We are _overjoyed_ to have you here!"

Tallya gave a slow smile. "Welcome to the sisterhood."


	6. Darcy

   “So, um,” Valkyrie said. “What exactly does that mean?”  
  
   “We’re a pod of mermaids led by,” she made a shrieking noise that Valkyrie assumed was a name. “We don’t recruit very often. Very elite. Your membership was a controversial one.”  
  
   “If by controversial, you mean  _somebody_  made the decision without asking anyone else,” said Tallya.  
  
   “You can’t talk about her like that!” The other said. “She made a fine decision. I mean, look how pretty she is.”  
  
   “Uh, thank you.”  
  
   “Not a problem, sweetheart. We’re happy to have you. And the rest of the pod will be, too. Although they don’t know that you’re even  _alive_  yet. We were a scouting team, you see, to stick around the beaches and make sure you got through okay…”  
  
   “What would have happened,” Valkyrie interrupted before she started on another tangent, “if I didn’t get to the water on time?”  
  
   “Didn’t I just say? You would have died,” she said cheerfully. “No water, not very good for us. Too much sun is bad, too – you’ll dry out. A newbie like you will revert back to being human, even!”  
  
   “For how long?” Valkyrie asked, eyes widening.  
  
   “Oh, I don’t know. A few hours or less. Not to worry, getting back into the water will get you back to normal. And you’ll be out of that stage soon enough, like Darcy, here.” She nudged a brunette who hadn’t spoken yet. Her curly brown hair floated around her in the water, shadowing her face.  
  
   “Great,” Valkyrie said, cataloging the information. “Um, what else do I need to know?”  
  
   The chatty one opened her mouth again, but the blonde nudged in front of her.  
  
   “Well,” she said, “it is, a bit, you know, weird…” She gestured towards Valkyrie, who frowned.  
  
   “What?”  
  
   “You know…” she said, gesturing again. “I mean, I can  _totally_  understand why you are! Conservative human culture, right?  But like, the other girls might make fun of you, so, like…”  
  
   Valkyrie brow furrowed. She looked at the others, trying to find a hint. There was nothing that different about her. They were, of course, all half naked freaky fish things, and she thought at that point there was no room to make fun.  
  
   Wait.  
  
   Half naked.  
  
   “Oh.  _Ohh_. You mean, what… my bathing suit top?”  
  
   The blonde winced, nodding. “I mean, it’s, like, super cute, but… I mean, really? Humans are so fussy about nudity. No offense. I just... why not flaunt what you got?”  
  
   Valkyrie stared. Being peer pressured out of her top by a preppy blonde mermaid wasn’t exactly something she expected to happen in her lifetime, or was incredibly comfortable with. But she supposed after becoming a fish mutant, she had no room to complain.  
  
   And she did have a point. They certainly looked  _natural_ , baring their figures. So she reached around and untied the strings at the neck and back. It went free, floating off in the water in front of her, and Valkyrie resisted the urge to immediately take back her decision and pull it back towards her.  
  
   “Oh, great,” said the blonde. “I’ll just take this for you.” She balled it up and pulled it behind her. Valkyrie had the grim sense that she was going to throw it into the farthest corner of the ocean when she wasn’t looking.  
  
   “Now that’s settled,” the chatty one said officially, “We can get going.” She really was like a tour guide. She was going to rub this in Skulduggery’s face, when she got out of this. If she ever got out of this.  
   
   The mermaids kicked off, the movement mesmerizing. She watched for a few seconds, wondering if she could copy it. She was never very good with the dolphin kick, but it wasn’t like she had that much of an option now…  
  
   Valkyrie started when she realized that the brunette – Darcy – was still there, looking at her, and Valkyrie balked and pushed off the rock immediately. She shot forward, which was promising, but as soon as she tried to kick, her body flipped over. She flailed desperately, trying not to hit a rock.  
  
   She heard laughter, and Darcy grabbed her around the waist, stopping her flailing.   
Valkyrie went limp, awkwardly, as Darcy pulled them back and kicked. Valkyrie face reddened, horrified at being towed like this – and feeling bad for the amount of effort Darcy had to put it to move them both.   
She watched her tail (bright red) carefully, with the mindset that it was a training lesson, something that Skulduggery set up. And with that, it clicked. She pushed away from Darcy as respectfully as she could, and tried swimming on her own.   
  
   “Are you good?” Darcy said quietly, treading water to watch her.  
  
   “Yeah, I think so,” Valkyrie replied. She pulled her arms through the water, behind her head, and tilted her head low enough to watch her tail do it's thing, still feeling a bit like she was trapped in a sleep bag. Soon she had fallen into a rhythm, slipped into the form she had strived for as a little girl. Little did she know, she thought dryly, what it would require.  
  
   “Great,” Darcy whispered, and smiled.  
  
   “Why are you so quiet?” Valkyrie asked.  
  
   “Not supposed to talk,” she said as she extended her arm in her stroke. She gestured towards the other girls, just barely in earshot. “It’s an initiation thing…”  
  
   Valkyrie turned her face toward her and frowned.  
  
   “Y’know, like the little mermaid?” She whispered.  
  
   “Wait, didn’t she lose her voice after she became  _human_?”  
  
   “…Yeah, it’s… a little backwards here.” She laughed and shook her head, looking like she still didn't understand. Valkyrie was glad someone felt the same way, after the welcome group’s casual approach to everything… werefish.   
  
   “You’ll get used to it, eventually,” she said kindly.  
  
   “How long have you been here?”  
  
   “Two months.”  
  
   Valkyrie marveled. “Wow, when they said newbie, I didn’t think…”  
  
   “Yeah, it’s really rare to have two people been bitten in a short period of time. You must have been something really special, huh? Are you magic?”  
  
   “Yes,” Valkyrie said automatically, and then, “Wait, aren’t you?”  
  
   Darcy shook her head, but gave no further answer. Valkyrie felt awkward, and took the time to examine the tattoo on Darcy’s forearm. It was a sea serpent, with fish and bubbles, and a rather loving illustration of an anchor. No mermaids, amusingly enough.  
  
   “They’ll tell you more, I guess, but I should probably warn you about something beforehand.”  
  
   “What?”  
  
   “Your magic won’t work anymore,” she said, in the same tone someone would use to discuss the weather.  
  
   Valkyrie stopped cold. “What?”  
  
   “That’s part of the process. Are you one of those elementy ones or an adapt?”  
  
   “Adept,” she corrected automatically. “I mean, not that I am one…… I’m an Elemental. Mostly.”  
  
   “Okay,” Darcy said, frowning, as if trying to recall the exact wording of something she learned in school but never really understood. “You’ve only got the water magic now.”  
  
   Valkyrie groaned. “Great. That’s just great.”  
  
   Darcy smiled sympathetically. There was silence, which gave Valkyrie time to mourn blasting bricks out of walls and setting things on fire.   
  
   “Um…not to be rude, but how old are you? I can never tell with you magic people…”  
  
   “Oh. I turned eighteen a few weeks ago.” It wasn’t a big birthday for mages, so it wasn’t something she had thought much of. It mostly marked the period where the surge became something with an upcoming deadline. She almost asked Darcy if she knew about the surge – but the question sounded condescending, even in her head. Instead, she asked, “what about you?”  
  
   “I’m nineteen.”  
  
   “Oh, sweet.” Valkyrie smiled, but she had to wonder how a nineteen year old wouldn’t be missed. She had the reflection sitting around for her, safely human. It didn’t even have the bite, though she figured if she released it while transformed, it would as well… it wasn’t a theory she felt like testing out, though.  
  
   Her thoughts were interrupted by the blonde and the tour guide waving to get their attention, and she kicked to catch up. Once she rejoined them and Tallya, she realized they were on the cusp of the mermaid… settlement? Something about seeing it again made her nervous.  
  
   “Um,” Darcy started, “should we really-”  
  
   She was immediately shushed by the blonde. “Keep it down! I mean... c’mon, newbie, it’s one thing if you talk around us…”   
  
   “But they’ll fry you if they hear you!” finished the other one. "And we'll get in trouble, too, for talking to you! Do you want that?" Darcy pulled back, hanging her head. Valkyrie frowned and then opened her mouth to protest - but before she could, both of her arms were grabbed and she was dragged down into the crevice.   
  
   And this was how she was introduced to the pod: captured by two over eager mermaids as Tallya and Darcy hovered awkwardly behind. Valkyrie eyes widened when she took in the simple vastness of them – there were about two dozen women, all staring at her, and she felt horrifically naked.  
  
   She smiled, and a silence fell over the giggling. They stared, and then began nudging each other, whispering and making faces. Valkyrie’s smile slowly disappeared, and she felt her blood run cold.  
  
   “There she is,” came a familiar voice, and Valkyrie cringed. The feeling that she had just walked in on a group of people talking about her was common enough that it hadn’t wigged her out for years – but those were colleagues, it was respectful, and ninety percent of the time, it was Skulduggery’s fault.  
  
   This was all her.  
  
   Her arms were released, and she forced herself to straighten (an unbelievably difficult task with a tail) and stare straight ahead.   
  
   Immediately, they swarmed. Valkyrie flinched, getting flashbacks of the attack from only three days previous, but instead they were laughing, spouting meaningless compliments and throwing questions on her.  
  
    She stared, overwhelmed, and could only nod when one asked to give her a tour of the grounds.

* * *

 “The grounds” apparently meant the whole damn ocean. They pulled her along, pointing out rocks and coves that Valkyrie couldn’t distinguish from one another. Valkyrie’s inner detective, though quieted by the events of the day, was still keeping a sharp eye out for anything that might belong to Hansard. After a while, she saw that they had drifted near Haggard again, and her mind drifted to her abandoned cell phone (and the abandoned partner who would be calling it. She hadn’t forgotten that he had called her  _every five minutes_  when she had first shunted.)  
  
   “Mind if I go off on my own?” Valkyrie asked, and they grinned and waved her off, telling her to have fun. She saw Darcy make a face and wondered if she had guessed at her intentions – but she was stuck in silence again, and could only stare.  
  
   Reminding herself that she would have to come back, she swam to the surface, and peaked, just her eyes breaking the waves.  
  
   Fortunately, the beach had emptied out some. Unfortunately, there were still people, and she was still a fish. And some sort of sunlight would be required to undo that. She groaned, wondering how she was going to pull this off.  
  
   What the hell would distract them? She wondered, clinging against a rock to hide from sight. She was weaponless, magic-less, and she didn’t even have a stitch of clothing on. How the hell would she…  
  
   …Oh, damn it.  
  
   Hating herself already, Valkyrie experimentally looped her left arm around her chest, and then peered down, trying to make sure it was enough to distract but not enough to… well. It was a fine line. She considered attempting the Lady Godiva thing, as her hair was long enough, but she felt that might attract  _too_  much attention. She’d have to paddle with her other arm, which would make it even more awkward. Valkyrie kicked with her tail behind her, fanning the fins out and trying to catch as much sunlight as she could without raising it too much. Immediately the tip of her fin started tingling in a way that reminded her of a developing sunburn. She swallowed, encouraged, and held her head high as she came into the sight of the beach dwellers.  
  
   As expected, people stared. And stared, as if trying to remove her arm from around her. On a normal occasion, it would make her skin crawl – but today, she took it as a blessing. She avoided waving sarcastically, as it would sort of ruin the makeshift censor bar she had going, and she didn’t really want to test out Ireland’s obscenity laws. Their vision was safely above the water line – and therefore, out of the danger zone. She could feel her scales burning as she paddled awkwardly, and took it as a good sign.  
  
   About a minute away from shore, she could feel her toes – not exactly wiggle them, but she could feel them there, being… toes. Also reassuring was the return of her bathing suit bottoms, snug around her. She relished the feeling of having legs again, even knowing that it wouldn’t be forever.   
  
   As her feet (lovely, perfect feet) hit the sand, she sighted the support where she had left her jacket – still there, thankfully. There was also a boy, a little younger than her and skinny. She scowled.  
  
   He caught her gaze and his eyes widened. God, this was not her day. But, surprisingly, instead of gaping like the other boys had, he snapped out of it and followed her gaze. Once sighted, he pointed at the bundle.  
  
   She paused, and then nodded.  
  
   And then he quickly trotted towards the shore, her phone and hoodie in his arms. She wrapped her arms around her and walked out of the surf towards him.  
  
   Avoiding looking directly at her, he held it out toward her. She stared at his hands and then her own arms, wondering how she was going to put it on without flashing him.  
  
   After a full 30 seconds of awkward staring, he seemed to realize the same thing, and colored.  
  
   “Oh, God, sorry!” He took the hoodie and dragged it over her, folded arms and all. Valkyrie laughed instinctively, switching it around (he had put it on backwards, but she still appreciated the effort) and pulling her arms through.  
  
   After a moment, he laughed, too, still red, and handed her her phone.  
  
   “Thank you,” she said, tugging her soaked hair out through the top. “Really, you’re a life saver.”  
   “No problem. I’ve… I, I mean, I’ve been there before. Lost my swim trunks once.” He pressed his face into his palm. “It was awful, so I could feel you… I hope I didn’t make it worse…?”  
  
   “Oh, no. Seriously, thank you so much.”  
  
   He grinned at her. He had a nice smile, she thought. She fixed her hair with her left hand, enjoying the comfortable silence, as her phone buzzed in her other hand. She twisted a lock of her soaked hair, trying to think of something to say….  
  
   “Oh, my parents love that song,” said the boy, suddenly. “Though that concerns me a little, considering what it’s about…” he laughed again. She liked his laugh.  
  
   She blinked. “Huh?”  
  
   He pointed to her phone, which had been belting out Me and Mrs Jones for several seconds without her noticing. She startled, phone slipping out of her fingers, and she jumped to recapture it with both hands.  
  
   “Damn it,” she hissed. “I’m so sorry, I have to take this.”  
  
   “Of course,” he said. “Uh… good… luck, or… something.”  
  
   “Thank you again!” Michael Buble was starting to get impatient. She glared at her phone.   
  
   “No problem. It was nice meeting you.”  
  
   “You too!” She said quickly, and then ducked behind a support. “For God’s sake,” she hissed at her phone, unlocking it. There was silence. “Ugh, I should have got his number,” she muttered to herself.  
  
   “What? Who’s number?” Skulduggery’s voice sounded vaguely panicked. “…What’s going on? Valkyrie?”  
  
   “Hold on. Nothing, nobody, nothing again, and yeah, it’s me. Hi.”   
  
   There was a long pause on the other end.  
  
   “That sounds like you regretting your life choices,” Valkyrie said.  
  
   “A bit, and no, you are not allowed to make jokes until I know you aren’t dead. Are you dead?”  
  
   “No.”  
  
   “Alright then, carry on.”  
  
   “Oh, now you’re putting me on the spot. I can’t think of anything. Um. Why are you worried about me being dead? You’re dead.”  
  
   “…That was pretty weak.”  
  
   “Yeah, and I was just a fish. Shut up.”  
  
   There was another pause. “You transformed?”  
  
   “Yes.”  
  
   “And you didn’t tell me?” he said. She flinched, finally catching how forced his carefree tone was.  
  
   “I couldn’t! I was by the beach and there was this weird noise in my head, and I was suddenly in the water, and then I got dragged around by this peppy mermaids and… I couldn’t do anything, okay? I got back as soon as I could.”  
  
   There was silence again. Valkyrie hugged her arms around her, supporting her phone with her shoulder. He was mad. He was mad, and it was her fault.  
  
   “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.  
  
   Silence again, to the point she was worried he had hung up. Then:  
  
   “Don’t be.” It came out as a sigh, and she involuntarily relaxed against the support.  
  
   “...Were you worried?” Valkyrie asked, in a very small voice.  
  
   “Of course,” he said, his voice softening. She closed her eyes and cupped her phone with both hands, still pressed against her face.   
  
    “I shouldn’t have left you alone. I’m on my way now.”  
  
   Her eyes opened, and she shook her head, even though he couldn’t see. “You really don’t have to. I’m fine now. I even made a friend. Sort of. I’m going to have to go back in the water before they notice anything’s up, and you it’s not like you can come with me. Don’t waste the trip.”  
  
   “But-”  
  
   “I don’t even know how long I’m going to be like this. I might transform back before you even get here.”  
  
   “Doubtful. I left when you didn’t answer my second call. I’m about half way there.”  
  
   She smiled and then forced it down, forced herself to be stubborn. “Then head back. I’ll be fine, and you need to get me a cure.”  
  
   “That’s…”  
  
   “I’ll see you tonight,” she said quickly. “And I’ll tell you everything and you can make fun of my inability to crack jokes when prompted. Just let me do this now.”  
  
   There was quiet, and then a sigh. “Fine.”  
  
   “Thank you.”  
  
   “…Please try to be safe.”  
  
   Valkyrie rolled her eyes. “When am I not?” she said. She stopped herself, frowning. “… Don’t answer that.”

 


	7. Midnight Meeting

   Valkyrie didn’t like people playing with her hair at the best of times. This, however, was pure torture.  
  
    “You have such long hair,” exclaimed a girl’s whose name she didn’t catch. She had a starfish in her hair. Valkyrie wasn’t sure if it was alive or dead. She pulled her arm back, fishbone comb tugging through Valkyrie’s knots. She grit her teeth and glared at a distance rock formation.  
  
    “...Do you ever brush your hair?” Starfish asked, frowning at her brush. The ribs had broken. Again. She shrugged and threw it over her head, reaching for a new one.  
  
    “I had better things to do,” Valkyrie muttered. The rose girl, the first mermaid she had seen, had taken her side and was quietly braiding tiny sections of her hair. At least  _that_  didn’t hurt.  
  
    “Well, we can make up for that now. You’re going to be the prettiest of us, with your long dark hair and purple tail…”  
  
    Valkyrie turned around. “Purple? It’s  _black_.” And she was very content with that. It made her feel more like a respectable sea monster, than a… well.  
  
    “It’s purple in the right light,” said the rosey girl. “And don’t move.”  
  
    Valkyrie muttered something that might have been an apology and turned so she was facing forward again, and looking at Darcy. Apparently, as part of Valkyrie’s own introduction, Darcy had to tail her (pun unintended) everywhere. Which was stupid, in Valkyrie opinion, as she couldn’t even talk. At the moment, Darcy was looking at her, her hands folded on top of her tail. She looked like….  
  
    Like she was trying not to laugh. Valkyrie made a face at her.   
  
    “You had to go through this, too,” she snapped. Darcy put her hand over her mouth, restraining a giggle. Valkyrie’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t even start with me!”  
  
    “She didn’t, actually,” said Starfish casually. “We couldn’t figure out her frizzy hair. And don’t talk to her, Val. You’re encouraging her.”  
  
   The laughter in Darcy’s eyes faded away. Valkyrie fidgeted with anger, which made the mermaid beside her hiss with annoyance.  
  
    “I can make the decision of who I will or won’t talk to for myself, thanks.” Valkyrie said.   
  
   The hands in her hair stilled. “Well…of course you can. But Darcy…” Starfish’s voice lowered. “We’re not being _mean_. We have to teach her. When she’s fully fledged, she’ll be as respected as any of us. She’ll even break out from the outcasts, probably.”  
  
    Valkyrie frowned. “The outcasts?”  
  
    “The girls who brought you in. Except Tallya. She got roped into it.”  
  
    “Wait, so the blonde and the chatty one…”  
  
    “Are complete losers,  _right_?” She laughed, working on Valkyrie’s hair again. “That’s why they’re on the welcome team. No offense.”  
  
    “None taken,” Valkyrie said, dazed.  
  
    “But Darcy’s off to a great start. Beth  _loves_  her. And she’s been doing really well with the silence thing,” her voice raised slightly, so Darcy could hear the praise, “and even though she’s not magic, she knows what to do.”  
  
    “Does it make a difference? Being magic?”  
  
    She could feel Starfish’s shrug. “Well, maybe, maybe not. I’m not. But your set… the ones who’ve done water magic before, who knew what mermaids were before they got bit… you tend to have an easier time.”  
  
    Valkyrie decided not to mention the fact she had no idea that mermaids actually existed until the day before she was bit.  
  
    Starfish took a hair comb in one hand, twisting Valkyrie’s hair with the other. “But it’s not your magic that makes you one of us. You’re a natural, Val.”  
  
    Valkyrie grimaced. “I don’t feel like one.” She gestured towards the water, nearly clocking the rose girl in the head. “All of this? I don’t get it. I don’t see how I ever will. The rankings and initiations and magic …Makes no sense to me. Hell, I still don’t understand how I’m actually breathing.”  
  
   “It’s okay,” Starfish said smoothly, brushing her hair from root to tip. No knots. “You’ll learn the way we work here, eventually. You’ll see.”  
\--  
   On the positive side, Valkyrie had managed to get away from the mermaids once more. They had gone to sleep early. She couldn’t sleep, not at all – something about the idea of sleeping underwater freaked her out, anyway. So she made her escape again, no one the wiser, not even any of the girls who were monitoring her.   
  
    On the not so positive side, Valkyrie was cold, hungry, and bored. And she didn’t even have her cell phone.  
  
    It, along with her hoodie, was a few minutes walk away.  
  
   Which would be great. If she could walk.  
  
   It was past midnight. The beach was deserted, so she lay across a rock, her tail exposed. There was no sun to bring her back to humanity, so she was stuck like this. She had picked a spot where she could see any approaching cars, which was good, and it was a warm enough night that she was comfortable. But she was still bored.  
  
   And… vaguely nervous.  
  
   Which was stupid, she knew. But it was the first time someone would see her like this. She wasn’t even comfortable with it yet. She didn’t like the weight at her waist, how hard it was to sit with a big scaley thing in the way. Her skin was slick and milk pale in the bright moonlight. Her nails had grown, sharpening to a point, and seemed to be taking on a purple sheen. She examined her hand – it barely looked like hers. And she was worried about webbed fingers.  
  
   Valkyrie had been lying on her stomach against a rock, chin rested on top of her folded arms, when she saw the Bentley. Her tail flicked through the water, and she pushed herself up as the car parked. (But not _too_  far up. Her breasts were uncomfortably squished against the stone, but it was better than flashing anyone else.)  
  
   Valkyrie stared as Skulduggery, wearing his façade and an overcoat, quickly bounded down the steps of the pier. He was looking for something. Her. She extended her neck, but he was still looking in the wrong direction. She rolled her eyes, shifting so she was even more obvious. (And moved her arms accordingly, to cover the important bits.)   
  
   His fake eyes finally passed over her. And then flickered back. They widened, and he almost staggered back. She gave a reluctant wave.   
  
   Skulduggery stared for a moment longer, and then he quickly turned off his façade, shaking his head as he did so. She tilted her head as he walked towards her, hands in his pockets.  
  
   “Do you know,” she said, slowly, when he stood before her, “what kind of day I’ve head? Please, please,  _please_  tell me you have my cure.” She forced as much puppy dog hopefulness into her eyes as she could.  
  
   “I’m afraid not.”   
  
   Valkyrie groaned, ducking her head. One of her braids flipped over her face, and she hastily shoved it back in the style that Starfish and Rosey had gave her – braids and white sea shells, looped around and back and through. She’d have released her head from it already, if she knew how. She sulked for a moment before Skulduggery tapped her very lightly on her bare shoulder. Valkyrie looked up.  
  
   “I do have this.” He offered, holding out a fast food bag to her. “I wasn’t sure if you ate,” he added softly.  
  
   Valkyrie beamed, making grabby hands. “Oh my God, _thank you_. They’re trying to make me eat kelp or seaweed or something. Did you know,” she said, digging through the white paper bag, “that almost none of them are mages? Why’s that?”  
  
   “Oh,” Skulduggery said. “Most mages are too smart to be bitten. If they have to be there for a prolonged period of time – and they consider themselves attractive enough to be in danger – they wear protective gear and charm. It’s really rare that one is actually bi…” He noticed Valkyrie glaring at him, and backtracked. “Though those are all mages who were warned before hand, of course. And didn’t have partners who assumed that they would be safe. Partners who are still very sorry about that.”  
  
   Valkyrie grumbled a little, content, and then dug into her burger with gusto, and Skulduggery made a noise that might have been a laugh.  
  
   She looked up, glowering. “What?”  
  
   “Sorry. Didn’t think I’d ever see a mermaid eating a cheeseburger.”  
  
   Valkyrie scoffed, and then glanced up at him, curious. “…Does that mean I look like a legitimate one?”   
  
   “I didn’t recognize you,” he admitted.  
  
   “What, you thought I was the  _other_  mermaid waiting for you on the beach?” She had to admit, though, he had a point, with the weirdness of her skin. And she wasn’t sure if he had ever seen her with her hair up.   
  
   “Funny,” he said, tilting his head. “I just mean that you look…” he searched for a word, long enough that Valkyrie was disappointed when all he supplied was, “not yourself.”  
  
   Valkyrie put down her emptied wrapper slowly. “You haven’t even seen the tail yet.”  
  
   “Let’s see, then.”  
  
   Valkyrie smiled slightly, turning her head as he walked around her rock, into the surf. Watching his skull over her shoulder, she slowly raised her tail out of the water and unfurled her fins.  
  
   “Very purple,” Skulduggery said.  
  
   “ _Black_ ,” Valkyrie corrected, scowling. She pulled her tail in towards her, almost protective.  
  
   Skulduggery paused, and then took the space on the rock, sitting with his knees up, inches away from where her calves would normally be. His head turned, so he was staring directly at her. Not saying anything. Valkyrie blinked, staring at him through locks of hair.  
  
   “Um…?”  
  
   “I’m just,” Skulduggery began, awkwardly, not meeting her eyes. “… Are you okay?” he asked, finally.  
  
   Valkyrie stared some more. “I’m a fish,” she began, “and I’m stuck like this on my own, so, uh, no…” she blinked hard, and then snapped her fingers. “That’s it. You’re getting all freaked out because this is my first solo mission.”  
  
   Skulduggery tilted his skull upwards. “First, I have full confidence in you. Second, this is nowhere near your first solo mission.”  
  
   “You’re a control freak,” Valkyrie insisted, ignoring him as he listed off various situations, (“Goblins, Scapegrace, that airport…”) “You’re all worried because you have to sit on the sidelines for this.”  
  
   “I  _am_  worried, but that’s not why. You’ve transformed into a completely new species. You’re separated from your parents, and me – don’t look at me like that, when was the last time I didn’t see you for an entire day when you weren’t at your parents?”  
  
   She shut her mouth, setting it into a pout.  
  
   “… You’re being forced to interact with the women who nearly killed you. And, though I’ve never known you to be a nudist, you’re not wearing anything.”  
  
   Valkyrie froze, realizing her arms hadn’t covered anything in the past ten minutes. She adjusted accordingly, reddening. “That was their fault!” She protested.  
  
   “…That only proves my point,” Skulduggery said, his gaze holding. There was a prolonged period of silence.  
  
   “I’m just… worried,” he repeated.  
  
   His partner sighed. “I wish you weren’t,” she said, quietly. He looked at her, waiting for clarification.   
  
   “I can’t do anything when you’re worried. It freaks me out,” she admitted. His head tilted, and she could feel his smile.   
  
   “Then I’ll try to keep it together. As long as you’re really alright?”  
  
   “I’m _fine_.” Valkyrie insisted. “Not exactly happy, but I’m holding it together. Some of them are nice. And it’s… interesting. That’s for sure.” Her hips twisted as she tried to turn to her side, but her scales slipped against the rocks, and she almost shrieked. She slid down, almost to the water, before Skulduggery caught her by her waist.  
  
   “Thanks,” she said, looking down. She was _slippery_. Ick. She was not comfortable with that.  
  
   “No problem,” Skulduggery said immediately, letting go just as quickly. Valkyrie frowned, her thumb tracing her opposite palm. ...That was …. weird. She frowned, trying to shake off the feeling of her own slipperiness and the unease she felt, just sitting next to him.  
  
   “Um. All I did today was swim around and get my hair done. They don’t trust me enough to treat me as anything but a shiny new toy. So I haven’t found anything for Hansard, yet.”  
  
   “Me neither. But I was mostly looking for mermaid-related things today, anyway.”  
  
   She swatted him. “You have to work on the case, too! I’m not going to have you give it up just for me.”  
  
   “But you said-”  
  
   “That was before I realized that this wasn’t so bad. I can manage for a few days.” Skulduggery was silent. “What,” Valkyrie said. He remained silent, and her panic grew. “ _What_?”  
  
   “You’ll transform permanently. And I don’t know how long that will take.”   
  
   Valkyrie sighed, relieved. “I know that. See what I told you about freaking out? Ugh. Anyway, I’ll be out of the water before that’s even an issue. I promise.”  
  
   “I’m glad you have confidence in me finding the cure in the first place.”  
  
   “It goes both ways,” she said, grinning, and then bumped him playfully with her shoulder. He stood up.  
  
   “Where’s your phone?”  
  
   Valkyrie blinked, thrown off. “Uh, I don’t have it. It was by the supports of the pier, and I can’t really walk, so… you can search for it?”   
  
   Skulduggery took out his own phone and dialed. A few seconds later, she could hear the distant loveliness of Michael Buble.  
  
   “That works too,” said Valkyrie, impressed.  
  
   He set off in the direction of the ring tone, and brought it back to her a minute later. It was shinier than usual, though she couldn’t tell why in the dim moonlight.  
  
   “Waterproof protector,” he explained.  
  
   “Awesome. Except, you know, the fact that everyone’s going to wonder  _why the hell I have a cell phone._ "  
  
   “Oh, no,” he said seriously. “All of the cool werefish have shell phones.”  
  
   “I hate you,” she said, forcing herself not to laugh. “I hate you so much.”  
  
   Skulduggery pulled his head back, demeanor cocky. She flicked her fin into the water, trying to splash him, but missed.   
  
   He then watched, curious, as she carefully rolled over onto her stomach, gripping her fingers into the facets of the rock.  
  
   “Don’t mock me,” she said between her teeth. “I don’t want to slip again.” She slowly lowered herself into the water.  
  
   “I’m off to bed. …Kelp? God, I don’t even know. Better find out.”  
  
   “Sleep well.”  
  
   “You too,” she said, sticking her head out of the water. “Please do, this time. I know you don’t meditate when you’re worried-”  
  
   “That’s not even remotely true-”  
  
   “Is too! Don’t even try to hide it. I’ve known you for five years, Skulduggery. Five years!” She slipped her head under the surface. He stared, as if waiting for to resurface. He seemed to relax when he realized she wouldn’t.  
  
   Valkyrie watched for a moment, undetected, as he squeezed his shoulder, a small shudder wracking his frame. He then walked away from her, and up the pier, to the Bentley.  
  
   Feeling safely out of sight, Valkyrie rested on her back, floating with her arms to either side.  
  
   …That hadn’t gone the way she thought it would. She knew that he had to be a little worried, based on the phone call earlier, but he had been both touchy and yet incredibly distant. It was weird. What had changed?  
  
   Her skin crawled suddenly.  _She_  had. Groaning, she sunk deep into the water. It was obvious. She couldn’t even stomach her own transformation – why would anyone else?   
  
   It was noble of him, she thought gloomily, cupping her phone in both hands, for even putting up with her.


	8. Confidentiality

   This rock, Valkyrie decided, was the first thing she was going to blast apart when she had her regular magic back. Just stretch her arm out, palm up, and push until it broke. And then she was going to take Skulduggery’s gun and shoot the pieces.  
  
   And maybe set them on fire.  
  
   Said rock had been her ‘bed’ the previous night. A night preceded by a day where she spent touring what seemed to be half the damn ocean and she still hadn’t managed to find Hansard’s cargo. Valkyrie couldn’t remember the last time she felt so useless. She jerked her head back and groaned.  
  
   All she accomplished was banging her head on her ‘pillow.’  
  
   Swearing, she pulled her hand back, massaging the sore back of her head. She could feel her skin throbbing between her fingers. It was impossible to feel blood – being soaked to the bone – so she pulled her fingers back in front of her face to examine the damage.  
  
   She stared at her fingers tips and then turned her hand over – and Valkyrie’s eyes narrowed. “Okay, who painted my finger nails?” she said, addressing the sleeping lumps around her. No one stirred. She repeated the question, louder, fingers frayed as to show the bright violet evidence.  
  
   Instead of the answer, she found a hand encircled around her other wrist, yanking her off the rock. Valkyrie yelped and rolled in the water, head over heels. Fins. Whatever.  
  
   She straightened herself out and faced her attacker, who was a tired looking Darcy. The girl gave up Valkyrie’s wrist and pulled her hand into her mane of brown curls.  
  
   “What was that for?” Valkyrie said, voice taut.  
  
   “You’re going to wake everyone up,” Darcy whispered.  
  
   “That’s the point!” Her voice was still at normal volume. Darcy stared her down, and Valkyrie reluctantly lowered it to a hiss. “Who the _hell_ painted my nails?”  
  
   Darcy looked her in the eye and sighed. “No one, Valkyrie. Those aren’t even nails. Well, not anymore. They’re more like scales.” She held her hand out like she wanted Valkyrie to examine her manicure.  
  
   The other girl hesitated before taking it, and then peered cautiously. Her nails were a bright fire truck red, from cuticle to very sharp point. The color, she thought, looked like blood in water.  
  
   The thought made her drop Darcy’s hand. She masked the movement by examining her own scary mermaid nail scale things – just as improbably colorful and consistent, but not as sharp.  
  
   Yet.  
   “See?” Darcy said. “No mystery manicure. You can calm down now.”  
  
    One of the other girls stirred and Valkyrie flinched, waiting for a reprimand. But all she did was squint at them and then put her head back down, muttering something about how she didn’t like manicures either.  
  
   Silence drifting between them as Valkyrie felt her rage suddenly quiet down and disappear for the third time as many days.  
  
   “Sorry,” she said quietly, not looking at her.  
  
   Darcy looked at her with something like pity. “Its okay,” she said, “it’s part of the process. You’ve only got two days left, maybe.”  
  
   Valkyrie went cold, goose bumps ripping across her bare arms. Darcy frowned, thick brows coming together.  
  
   “Valkyrie? You okay?”  
   “Yeah. I’m fine. I’m just going to… go. Swim. Somewhere.”  
  
   Her friend’s mouth pursed. “It’s like six in the morning, and you didn’t get in until late last night-”  
  
   “I thought you were asleep?” She shook off the feeling of being watched and raised an eyebrow. “Whatever. You sound like my Mum, Darcy.”  
  
   “You don’t have a mother anymore, Valkyrie.” Her voice was low, almost cold. It sent another shiver down her back.   
  
   “What’s  _that_  supposed to mean?”   
  
   Darcy was silent, but not out of being unable to answer – more like she was proving a point. The water was still, and Valkyrie couldn’t read her friend’s expression. She forced irritation into her voice to mask the feeling of uneasiness threatening to overwhelm her.  
  
   “I’m going now,” she announced, tone daring her to argue. “Goodbye, Darcy.”  
  
   “Don’t-“  
  
   “I’ll see you when I get back.”  _And hopefully you’ll be acting like less of a mental case_ , she added in her head.  
  
   Darcy set her mouth in a line and then sunk back, resigned. Valkyrie kept her eyes on her as she swam off, waiting for her to alert the others to try to talk her back again. But all she did was curl up next to Beth, who went on sleeping, not even noticing her.

* * *

 

    Valkyrie recovered her phone from its hiding place: a little indent inside a boulder, where it was still tightly sealed in its waterproof case. She surfaced and fumbled around for about fifteen minutes in sight of the shore, searching for a signal or WiFi. If anyone had been at the beach at six in the morning, they would have seen a single, pale arm breaking the water’s surface, waving around an iPhone wildly.  
   Sometimes she really wished she was a Doctor Who character.  
  
   At last, she managed to catch some bit of a signal – after forcing herself up towards the shore until she was lying, banked, just barely covered in shallow water - and received a text with a time stamp of a few hours ago.  
  
   “ **Found a recipe for a cure. Just need a blood sample. I’ll be at the pier around 7:30.** ”   
  
   She cupped her phone in her hand, watching the water tremor slightly around it.  
  
   For a minute she couldn’t digest the words. Part of her brain (and she felt the need to blame Darcy and her scary pep talk) felt like she’d never get the cure. Even the optimistic part of her didn’t even consider getting it  _today_. But she was. She was saved. She grinned wildly, flipping her fin through the water.  
  
   Or she  _would_  be. And then, no more tail, or being half naked all the time, or Skulduggery acting weird, or stupid fish puns, or rock pillows, or dealing with any of those awful mermaids anymore.  
  
   It was over.  
  
   (Okay, well, she still had to find Hansard’s cargo, obviously, but she didn’t let it harsh her good mood. She’d have an easier time finding it knowing that there would be a cure waiting for her when it was done. Everything would work out fine.)  
  
   Optimism was a rare state of being for Valkyrie, but this time, she took it. Ever since she had discovered her bite she had been in a mode of constant distress or awful moodswings. Her body relaxed on the sand.  
  
    Valkyrie folded her hands on her stomach and hummed to herself – and this was how Skulduggery found her.  
  
   “Hello,” he said, standing over her, his feet about a foot away from her head. His façade raised an eyebrow.  
  
   “Hi,” she replied. Her voice came out slightly gurgly, forming in bubbles that floated to the surface for a second before bursting. “Why are you wearing the façade?”  
  
   “I didn’t want to look suspicious. I suppose some people don’t feel quite as conservative,” he said, gesturing towards her tail.   
  
   Valkyrie raised a hand out of the water and flipped it dismissively at him. “Nobody’s on the beach at seven on a Sunday morning.”  
  
   He kneeled down on the sand, so he was closer to her level. “I suppose that’s why there’s a car approaching.”  
  
   “You sound like you were prepared for this.”  
  
   “I was.”  
  
   “So it’s someone we already know?”   
  
   “That it is.”  
  
   “Eh,” she said, and shrugged, leaving an indent of her shoulders in the sand. “Might as well let them know. I’m almost free of this, right?”  
  
   “That doesn’t sound like the best idea.”  
  
   Valkyrie ignored him and started humming again. She felt like it was the best humming she had ever done, honestly.  
  
   He looked at her for a moment. She tilted her chin towards him, still grinning cheekily. His façade looked like it didn’t know whether if it was smiling or annoyed.  
  
   “Fine.” He said, spreading his hands as if he had given up. “Despite evidence to the contrary, it seems you don’t want to be warned of Hansard Kray’s arrival. I won’t even bother.”  
  
   “Wait, what?” Valkyrie said, thrashing her tail. “ _What_?”  
  
   “Oh no,” he said, “that just slipped out. I suppose you  _have_  been warned. So sorry.”   
  
   Valkyrie yelped. The car had parked and the driver had gotten out, opening the door of the passenger seat. Panic set in Valkyrie’s head. Beached on the sand, it would be too difficult to maneuver herself back into deep water. She was probably close enough to roll onto the sand and dry out, but… did she _want_  to? She’d be left in only her bathing suit bottoms.  
  
   Oh dear god.  
  
   “Help me,” she hissed. Skulduggery held up his hands in a “what can I do?” gesture, and she splashed him. The look his façade sent back would have been chilling, if she was made of weaker stuff. Instead, she glared back, and then glanced around his form. Hansard was out of the car and speaking to his driver. It didn't seem like he or the car would be sticking around.  
  
   Being caught naked ranked slightly higher than being caught as a Werefish in her book. She rolled herself out of the water and was relieved when the warm feeling immediately spread, tail gone in seconds.  
  
    When she looked up, Skulduggery was holding out a ratty looking towel. She didn’t know where he got it from and she didn’t care. She took it and tried to stand, but he pressed his hand firmly on her shoulder and pushed her back down.  
  
   “Not yet. I’ll distract him. Run behind him and into the Bentley, I think you still have some clothes in the back seat.”  
  
   “Can’t I just hide?” She whined.  
  
   “No. I suppose he’ll want to speak to you."  
  
   Valkyrie looked stricken.  
  
   “You’ll be fine,” he reassured her. “Just make sure you run really fast when I give you the signal.”  
  
   “Which will be?”  
  
   “Something amazing, I’m sure.”  
  
   “You haven’t thought of it yet, have you?”  
  
   He said nothing. Valkyrie scowled, but forced herself to be silent, spotting Hansard descending the steps. He was, thank God, looking at the horizon. She sank down, hiding behind Skulduggery’s tall form, pressing herself against his legs and making herself as small as possible.  
  
   Hansard stood before Skulduggery. “Detective,” he said. “At least, I think that’s you.”  
  
   The façade, she thought. Oh, thank God. It would keep his gaze away from his feet.  
  
   “It is, in fact, me.”  
  
   Hansard looked genuinely curious. “Does your face always look like that?”  
  
   “No, not at all. It changes.”  
  
   “So you don’t normally have such a pink complexion.”   
  
   Skulduggery’s stance shifted, almost defensive. Valkyrie really wished he would  _stop moving_.   
  
   “No,” he said, voice even. “I don’t.”  
  
   “I daresay you’re normally rather pale.”  
  
   Skulduggery didn’t laugh, which Valkyrie thought was rather unfair, as she was pretty sure he had made that joke himself more than once and expected _her_  to laugh at it.   
  
   Hansard was unfazed, a small smile on his face. “Where is your partner hiding, anyway?”   
  
   “In the car, I believe. She’ll be out in a minute.”  
  
   Right. The signal. She nudged him, hoping that would come off as ‘message received.’  
  
   “Hansard,” Skulduggery said, slowly, “Did you know…”  
  
   Valkyrie wondered for a moment if he was going to punch him. A wild, unwanted laugh bubbled up and she choked it down.  
  
   “That most people consider pointing in the opposite direction a distraction?” He gestured wildly.  
  
   Valkyrie was going to kill him.  
  
   But it worked. Hansard (frowning deeply) looked where his arm was pointing, towards the direction of her house, and Valkyrie stood up and ran like hell. If Hansard had turned around, he would have found her, towel wrapped around her chest, running on still wobbly-legs and trying very hard not to face-plant. She dove behind the Bentley, turning her head to peer around its side.  
  
   Panting, she waited for the two of them to start talking (and if Hansard had any sense, it would be to wonder aloud what  _the hell was wrong with him_ ) before she opened the front door. She didn’t bother with unlocking the passenger seat, instead jumping straight from the driver seat to the back. Valkyrie toppled, but managed to get her hands on a t-shirt and shove her head through it.  
  
   She had disturbed a pile of newspapers Skulduggery kept neatly in the back, and one flew up to meet her, showing her the fleeting image of a nineteen or twenty year old girl with hair cropped short, wearing thick framed glasses. She figured it was a missing person. She contemplated it for a moment – if only to be glad that after the cure, it wouldn’t have to be her - and then let it be. With new determination, she pulled on jeans over her suit bottoms (mysteriously and thankfully dry.)  
  
   Valkyrie put on her jacket and fluffed at her hair with the ratty towel, trying to get the water out. Normally she’d try water magic, but if she got any on the seats, Skulduggery would kill  _her_. She scrubbed until it felt dry enough, but there was nothing she could do to remove the salt. She scraped it back into a ponytail and hoped that would be good enough.  
  
   She apprehensively got out of the car and half hid behind it.  
  
   Skulduggery’s façade was up, but he was still speaking to Hansard. She watched them for a minute before the detective looked up and caught her gaze.  
  
   “How do I look?” She mouthed, exaggerating the movements.  
  
   He looked at her and then back at Hansard, waiting for him to finish taking out a notepad. While he wrote it in, he returned her gaze to her and gave her a thumbs-up.  
  
   Valkyrie scowled. She sunk back down, working up the nerve. She had the horrible feeling like she was about to go on trial - the same feeling she felt when she was 'welcomed' by the mermaids. Hansard could manage that feeling all on his own. It was rather impressive.  
  
   Holding her head high, she descended the pier's stairs.

   Hansard turned to look at her as soon as her shoe hit the step. His face was a mask, just pleasant features, the barest hint of a smile. She pictured him wrinkling her nose at her, and the image made her straighten up and abandon any fear she had of talking to him. She wasn’t dealing with this, not today.  
  
   “Miss Cain,” he said. “So nice of you to leave your car.”  
  
   If he wanted an explanation, she wasn’t giving him one. Asshole.   
  
   Hansard was nonplussed. “You must admit,” he said, picking up on her rage, “this meeting is a little strange, from my perspective? I had nothing negative to report immediately after I had debriefed you. Skulduggery had called me a few times with information over the first few days, asking for clarification, told me you would be investigating as soon as possible. And then Thursday rolls around…” He paused, possibly for effect.   
  
   Valkyrie wondered why the hell he hadn’t said all this when he was ‘alone’ with Skulduggery. Probably didn’t want to miss the opportunity of making her feel awful.  
  
    “...And there I was, thinking you two had solved the case in record time. And yet… nothing. Nothing at all. And that’s all it is over the next few days – nothing. And as far as I know, the case has gone nowhere, and when I show up for an explanation, you’re hiding in the car and he’s…” Hansard trailed off.  
  
   “He’s what?” Skulduggery said, voice even, controlled. He had turned his façade off while she had been listening to Hansard, and his skull offered no hint at his reaction.  
  
   Hansard looked at him, for a long moment, and then paled. “Acting strangely,” he said, which Valkyrie thought was his attempt at a save. “I meant nothing by it,” he said, a moment later.  
  
   It looked like  _someone_  was afraid of the Skeleton Detective. Valkyrie couldn't help but grin. It’d explain why he was always perfectly civil to him and… not so much to her.   
  
   “I’m just…” Hansard began, “uncertain, I suppose, that this case is going as planned. Tell me honestly, Detectives: Have you discovered or worked on the case at all since I last saw you?”  
  
   Valkyrie opened her mouth to protest – it had only been two days – and then shut it. Two days were everything when you were known as one half of the duo who could save the world in less than a weak. She had no excuse.  
  
   …Technically, she did, but she had no excuse she actually planned on telling him.  
  
   “…Well?” Hansard said.  
  
   “There has been progress-” Skulduggery began, but Valkyrie cut him off.  
  
   “No. No, there actually hasn’t. I’ve had… some personal problems. And I’m holding up the case. I’m sorry. I really am, but this was… out of my control. And I’m doing my best to fix it but the case… hasn’t been my priority. I’m sorry.”  
  
   Hansard was quiet, “Is your family alright?” Hansard asked.   
  
   “Yeah. They’re fine. …I think. Whatever, not the point.”  
  
   “What is it, then?”  
  
   “You don’t need to know,” she snapped. All you need to know is that it’s my fault. Don’t blame him,” she said, glancing at Skulduggery. What she had expected to see from her partner was gratitude. A thankful head tilt, at the very least. Instead, he was focused on her, arms pulled towards his center, skull tilted downwards.  
  
   Worry.  
  
   Valkyrie turned away from him sharply, holding her resolve together with something that felt like desperation. Damn it, she  _told_  him she hated it when he worried.  
  
   Their client cleared his throat, possibly sensing the awkward. “I think we should talk, Miss Cain,” Hansard said. “In private, if your partner will allow?”  
  
   There was no way he would, not if he was looking at her like  _that_. “Of course he will,” Valkyrie said for him, and dragged Hansard by the arm. “Let’s go.”   
  
   Hansard let her drag him for a few steps, behind a support and out of Skulduggery’s earshot (at least, she thought it was. She didn’t know if he had super lack-of-ears hearing to match with the super-lack-of-eyes eyesight. She hoped not.)  
  
   “Look, I messed up,” she said immediately, before he could speak. “But I’ll fix it. If I have an extra day I can… resolve my drama and get your cargo. No problem. I can do it.”  
  
   “I can’t give you an extra day, Valkyrie.”   
  
   “Oh come on!” She said. “Seriously?  _Seriously_? I tell you that something is wrong with me and I’m doing my hardest to make it up, and you don’t even listen? Why the hell are you acting like this?”  
  
   “Valkyrie.”  
  
   “You hired me-”  
  
   “Valkyrie.”  
  
   “ _What_?”  
  
   He held up his hands. “Please listen to me.”  
  
    Valkyrie forced her hands down, forced her mouth shut. She was  _not_  about to have one of her werefish-freakouts again.   
  
   “Thank you,” he said, peering at her as if he wasn’t sure she had really calmed down. “I can’t give you another day,” Hansard enunciated. “And that’s the end of it.”  
  
   She straightened up again. “As you’ve told me eight times already. Try again, and this time, an  _actual reason why_  would be nice."  
  
   “Will you be telling me what's 'wrong with you'?"  
  
   Valkyrie's expression darkened. “It’s personal.”  
  
   “Then it seems we understand each other perfectly.”  
  
   Valkyrie exhaled out her nose, unbelievably frustrated. “Hansard, just  _tell me_. I already think you’re an asshole, I can’t judge you any more than that.”  
  
   He blinked, surprised. A long, awkward silence passed, and Valkyrie shivered underneath her thin jacket.  
  
   “Sorry.” Valkyrie muttered, not really meaning it.  
  
   “...I didn’t…” the boy began, “I hadn’t… I never intended to come off that way.” He put a hand to his face, ran it through his hair. “If my father knew I had… I had trusted you, and it fell through, he’d never trust me with something like this again.” He had started to speak faster, his voice losing a bit of its posh cadence.  “The truth is, Valkyrie, I can’t afford to give you another day because this is all I have. My father reported this to me two weeks before I talked to you two. I tried to find detectives not associated with the Sanctuaries –”  
  
   Valkyrie opened her mouth to protest-  
  
   “- Who  _hadn’t_  killed my father’s gods…”  
  
   And then closed it.  
  
   “But none of them could solve it. Some of them  _disappeared_ , Vakyrie. Nothing worked. I was so desperate. You were my last resort. I thought... I had assumed it would be easy for you.”  
  
   It was Valkyrie’s turn to feel surprised and awkward. “I… okay, fine, that makes sense and I should have guessed. And I’m… sorry to here that.” It sounded insincere, even to her own ears, probably because she had spent the last few days hating him. She switched subjects. “But I don’t know how I’m going to solve this in two days, Hansard.”  
  
   “Then we’re in the same boat.” He laughed suddenly. “Boat. That’s ironic.”  
  
   Valkyrie frowned at him, wondering if this little outburst (though it had nothing on any of Valkyrie’s own in the past few days) had shaken a few screws lose.  
  
   “Now that I wear my heart on my sleeve…” Hansard leaned against the support, voice curious. “What is your problem?”  
  
   Valkyrie blanched. “I really can’t tell you, Hansard.”  
  
   He smiled without kindness and turned his face away from her. “Oh, no, of course not. My bad for presuming that my trust in you would be returned.”  
  
   Rolling her eyes, Valkyrie turned her head to look at him. Great. He was right back to being an asshole. “If I could tell you, Hansard, I would. But I can’t. We can work together, though. I want to. Please.”  
  
   Hansard avoided her gaze and was silent. Valkyrie was already trying to figure out if she was going to get Skulduggery involved (at least, she thought, Hansard’s fear of him could come in handy).  
  
   “You have a few hours,” he said suddenly.  
  
   Valkyrie frowned. “Wait, what?”  
  
   “I’ll give you a few more hours. I’ll meet you at Monday at sunset. Have coordinates or a picture we can trace.” His voice had regained its previous full composure, just like that.  
  
   Her client straightened up and straightened his clothes. Valkyrie frowned at him, still confused. “Um, okay. Thank… you?”  
  
   “I told you, Miss Cain,” he said, evenly, not a trace of the desperation that leaked through his voice earlier. “This is for myself.” He brushed past her (gently) and walked up the steps, phone in hand.  
  
   She supposed he was calling his driver.  
  
   After a few minutes – watching him walk up, wait, and then drive off – she pulled herself together and returned to Skulduggery.  
  
   “Hi.” Her voice was distracted.  
  
   “How did it go?”  
  
   “…It… went. He… he has some issues.”  
  
   Skulduggery’s head tilted the slightest degree left. His version of raising an eyebrow.  
  
   “Client said it in confidence,” she said. “Can’t talk about it.”  
  
   He made a small noise, a little irritated. She grinned. Being a bonafide detective had its advantages – she could use that line and he could nothing about it.  
  
   “I wish he didn’t drive off so quickly,” he said. “He could have helped you with your cure.”  
  
   “Seriously?”  
  
   “Yes,” he said, taking his time to reply. “I’m sure you’ve heard of true love’s kiss?”  
  
   “Back up slightly,” she ordered.  
  
   “Why?”  
  
   “Because I’m going to hit you. To the left, please.”  
  
   He side stepped carefully out of her range – he knew exactly how far she could punch, or kick. Valkyrie scowled.  
  
   “You two were talking for so long, you know, I thought, maybe his feelings had changed... but I suppose not.”  
  
   “I hate you.”  
  
   “I know.”  
  
   “But I really, really hate you.”  
  
   “I really, really know.”  
  
   Valkyrie lunged suddenly, hoping to catch him by surprise, but he just dodged, laughing. She recovered from her failed attempt and glowered at him, arms crossed over her chest.  
  
   “Out of the context of your awful and poorly timed joke, is that … seriously a way to cure mermaid-ism?”  
  
   “I don’t believe so. But I’ve never heard otherwise, I suppose. Most men don’t really survive that kiss.”   
  
   “Well, good. That would just make me depressed about my sorry love life.”  
  
   Her partner glanced at her. “Those fairy tale cures – kisses, eye of newt, toe of frog, mermaid tears, fairy wings … never have been confirmed to work. Or maybe they had all been faked, who knows. All of our  _working_  cures involve science-magic.”  
  
   “My favorite words,” Valkyrie retorted, and then sighed. “Kenspeckle probably would have been able to fix me in a few days.”  
  
   “Maybe not,” Skulduggery said. He started to pull something out of jacket, and Valkyrie sat herself down on a rock. “It seems that someone wants this cure completely gone. The only evidence I found of it was half erased.” He stepped toward her rock, and then tripped. Well, almost. Skulduggery never truly tripped. This was the closest she’d ever seen him get to stumbling, though.  
  
   “…Skulduggery,” she said, wary. “When was the last time you slept?”  
  
   “Over three hundred and fifty years ago,” he replied.  
  
   Valkyrie rolled her eyes. “I mean meditated.”  
  
   He was quiet.  
  
   “Skulduggery…” Valkyrie repeated.  
  
   His answer was very quiet. “…Monday evening, I think.”  
  
   “Oh my god,” she said, burying her face in her hands.  
  
   “I’ve gone much longer,” he protested.  
  
   “You’re spending all day hunting down scraps of paper and you’re not sleeping. And nothing is getting done for the case. This is my fault. Demanding that you fixed me.” Her voice was low. “Me and my issues messing up your priorities.”  
  
   Between her fingers, she saw Skulduggery kneel down.   
  
    “You,” he said softly, “are always my priority.”  
  
   Valkyrie didn’t say anything. She never could when he talked like… that. She just pressed her hands against her face, feeling glad that she was human in this moment, that at least for now, they were back to normal. She felt him sit next to her, his femur brushing against her leg.  
  
   “Give me your hand,” he instructed, and she did so, still looking away. After a few seconds, she felt a sharp prick.  
  
   “Ow! Thank you for the warning,” she hissed, voice oozing sarcasm.  
  
   “Sorry,” he said, “next time I’ll ask for my permission to stab you.” She watched at her turned her hand over in his own. “Hmm.”  
  
   “Hmm what?”  
  
   “You’re not bleeding.”  
  
   “Maybe you should stab me better.”  
  
   “That’s probably it.” Skulduggery tried again, and this time, she was able to brace herself.  
  
   “Still nothing,” he said, and she could hear a frown in his voice. “It’s like your skin is… tougher. Almost…”  
  
   “Webbed,” she finished for him, feeling pale. “Grand. That’s just grand. Let’s me make me even more into a freaky fish girl. The cure  _needs_  my blood, right?”  
  
   “Yes.” He went quiet. He was probably wondering if he would have to actually stab her. …Well, that was  _she_  was thinking, at least. She clenched her hand into a fist and thought –  
  
   And thought.  
  
   “Wait. My nails.”  
  
   Skulduggery looked at her.  
  
   “They’re all pointy, see? Like, I don’t know, talons. I could probably cut myself with that.”  
  
   “It wouldn’t hurt to try, I suppose.”  
  
   “Unless they’re poisoned,” she muttered to herself, far past the point of trusting any mermaid anatomy.  Biting down on her lip, she brought her index finger onto the base of her thumb –  
  
   And swore. “Oh my god,” she said, once she had said half a dozen swears and the word “ow” at least twice that. “That hurts.  _Why_  does that hurt so much?”  
  
   “Your injuries related to this hurt more than usual, don’t they?”  
  
   “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m used to it. Jesus  _Christ_. Okay. Let me try this again.”   
  
   It had the same results – she quailed before she could draw blood. Surprisingly, no tears came out, either. She wrestled for Skulduggery hand on the third attempt, squeezing hard as she pressed down with her opposite hand.  
  
   He squeezed back – his grip tight and bony – and it was enough for her to force herself to keep going. Her nail entered her palm like a dagger, and she shook with a full body shudder. Her nail was pulled up along a few perfect droplets of blood, and Skulduggery released her hand to uncork a vial. She rolled her hand towards it, letting them streak across her palm and into the glass.      
  
   Valkyrie wiped her hand against her jeans, glad it was over.  
  
   “Are you alright?” Skulduggery asked, replacing the vial in his jacket.  
  
   “Ugh.” Valkyrie replied.  
  
   “Is that an emotion now?”  
  
   “At least during this week. How long is this going to take?”  
  
   “About three hours,” he said, and she sighed with relief. Valkyrie had expected to wait  _days_.  
  
   “Good. Excellent. That gives me enough time to find the cargo and get back here.”  
  
   Skulduggery looked like he was going to protest. But he didn’t. “Good,” he said. “At least someone is doing the work around here.”  
  
   Valkyrie smiled at him, feeling almost relaxed. “You have work to do, too. If you lost sleep for me, you better get it done.”  
  
   He stood, hands in his pockets. “Of course.”  
  
   “Now turn around.”  
  
   “You’re going to try to hit me again, aren’t you?”  
  
   “No, I’m going to get naked. Turn around.”  
  
   She waited until he did so, and then pulled off her jacket and then t-shirt, ‘accidentally’ smacking her hand into the back of his ribs.  
  
   Skulduggery didn’t quite turn around, just tilted his head back slightly, making a noise in protest. “You said...”  
  
   “Oops,” Valkyrie said cheerfully, pulling off her shoes, realizing she had skipped socks. “My bad.”  
  
   “Right.”  
  
   She laughed and put her clothes up on the rock, and then quickly ran toward the sea, feet hitting the sand without a sound. She dived as soon as she was in the surf, and she felt the transformation hit with a wave, felt the scales ripple across her flesh. It wasn’t as bad, now that she was used to it, now that she knew it was almost over.  
  
   Valkyrie turned on her back and waved at Skulduggery, who had gathered her clothes and was turning towards the Bentley. He waved back, and she considered that she might have been completely wrong about him being disgusted with her. It didn’t matter either way, though, because she was nearly out of this hell.  
  
   Grinning to herself, she slipped beneath the waves and swam towards the colony, feeling refreshed, determined, to fix her mistakes and finally solve this stupid case.  
  
   And then she felt a cold hand on her arm, reeling her back. The flesh on Valkyrie's arms erupted in goosebumps.  
  
   “So,” Darcy said, voice betraying no emotion. “This is where you’ve been running off to.”


	9. An Interlude

           Skulduggery Pleasant was having an off week.  
  
           As usual, this had everything to do with his partner. This time, it was her absence – obvious when he turned to look at the passenger seat, or made a joke to thin air, or walked without his arm accidentally swinging into someone else’s. And yet he kept forgetting. He could enjoy the silence, on occasion, when Valkyrie was safe at home, sending him pictures of her baby sister or some strange thing she had found on the internet, but this was unnerving. He knew what she was up against, what she was dealing with all on her own, and it disturbed him, made his fingers shake, his smooth voice ever so slightly unsteady. It felt too much like when she had disappeared in front of him, just three short months ago.  
  
           He didn’t like that feeling.  
  
           Of course, he supposed Valkyrie’s own week was considerably worse, with her being stuck as a member of another species, but he felt no one truly appreciated what he was going through.  
  
           Skulduggery felt himself smile. He would have told Valkyrie that, and she would have called him an insensitive moron, or hit him. The whole humor approach, he thought, somewhat bitterly, worked much better when there was someone there to listen to it.  
  
           He stopped the Bentley, and for a long moment, he didn’t get out, or move. His head was spinning. Valkyrie was fine, he reminded himself. He made himself think of how he saw her last – determined to solve their case, smiling, upbeat.  Naked.  
  
           It was a brilliantly sunny afternoon in Roarhaven – an hour from Haggard, an hour from the beach, an hour from Valkyrie. By the end of the day, they’d both be at Cemetery Road, and she would get some well deserved sleep. Him, too, though he hated to admit it. Valkyrie had been right – it wasn’t safe for him to go this long. But he could make up for it later. Soon. When she was normal, safe, he could fix anything.  
  
           If he had managed to finish her cure without blowing anything up.  
  
           He had parked the Bentley in the back, wanting to avoid the Elders. They had spent the last week in back to back meetings regarding the threat of an upcoming war, and were both rather touchy. Even if Valkyrie hadn’t minded, he wasn’t sure he’d tell them what had happened to her – he rather felt like they didn’t need any more stress at the moment.  
  
           (Nor did he, for that matter.)  
  
           Skulduggery let himself into the medical bay of the Sanctuary as quietly as he could, pulling shut the heavy door behind him. It was pitch black inside – he could sense, rather than see, the lab tables, six in total, and the racks of equipment along the walls, as well as the doors to the main section of the department.  
  
           But that wasn’t quite it. There was something  _else_.  _Someone_  else. He could sense their heat, hear their breathing.  
  
           His hand lowered to his gun, gloved fingers clasping the cold metal as he slowly, cautiously turned to face the source -  
  
           “Hi!”  
  
           Skulduggery swore. He could see a figure, short in stature, and had a feeling he knew who it was, but snapped his fingers just in case, nourishing a small flame in his hand. Clarabelle stood before him, her hands clasped together, a smile on her face.  
  
           “I thought it was you. You or the delivery guy.” She squinted at the flame cupped in his hand.  “Did I scare you?”  
  
           Skulduggery took a small step backwards. “Obviously not,” he answered. “Otherwise I would have shot you.”  
  
           “Unless you were too scared to shoot me,” Clarabelle answered immediately. “You did jump a bit."  
  
           “That was sleep deprivation,” he muttered, mostly to himself.  
  
           Clarabelle only smiled.  
  
           Skulduggery ignored her and walked to the light switch. Clarabelle winced as the lights turned on, using her right arm to cover her eyes.  
  
           “How long have you been in here?” He asked, rearranging his gun in his holster.  
  
           “I don’t remember,” Clarabelle said, walking towards him. She still had her arm covering her eyes, and had the other out reaching out, like a blind woman. “Ages, I think. Are you still fighting with Valkyrie?”  
  
           “No,” Skulduggery said. "Not that we were really fighting in the first place.”  
  
           “Oh,” Clarabelle said. She slowly turned and began walking in the opposite direction.  
  
           Skulduggery tilted his head at her, watching as she bumped gently into a lab table.  
  
           “The door,” he said, slowly, “is to your left.”  
  
           “Thank you,” Clarabelle said, smiling from beneath her arm. He waited her to make her exit.  
  
           She did not.  
  
           Skulduggery sighed. He supposed it made no difference to him, whether or not she was there. She’d have no way of knowing what he was doing, and he figured that Valkyrie could forgive him if she found out anyway. It was only Clarabelle. And she seemed quite content to stand there, blinking away spots from the sudden light. He remembered the sensation, if barely. It made him wonder how long she had been standing in the dark.  
  
            Dismissing the thought, he strode over to one of the longer tables and pulled open a cabinet, pushing away an ancient microscope to squint at a rack of test tubes. Everything was covered in a thin layer of dust, except a test tube containing an aquamarine substance. This he carefully picked up, placing one finger over the stopper to hold it in place. Straightening, he used his foot to close the cabinet’s door.  
  
           When he glanced around the room again, Clarabelle had disappeared, but he could hear humming in the next room over. He expected she would return momentarily.  
  
           He placed the test tube in a holder already on the table, and removed a small book from one coat pocket, and balanced a vial from the opposite pocket on top of it.  
  
           Skulduggery took a sharp breath, surveying the three items silently. He really, really, really hoped he was doing this right.  
  
           His fingers clasped the cork of the test tube and he pulled, careful not to spill. He had no idea where he’d find half of these things again – salt water was easy enough, but the rest had come from a dwindling supply he had found in this room,  salvaged from Kenspeckle's old lab but never replenished. It was all gone, now. The doctor would have appreciated that it was being used for Valkyrie. After he had yelled at Skulduggery for letting her get turned into a mermaid in the first place.  
  
           There were a lot of things, Skulduggery thought, that he deserved to be berated for.  
  
           The last ingredient, the most difficult to find, had been from Valkyrie herself. The blood of a mermaid.  It would have cost him a pretty penny if he hadn't had his own personal supply. His mind flicked back to the color of it, how she had winced through each attempt, the sensation of her hand in his. His finger stilled over the lip of the test tube for a long moment.  
  
           He looked up as Clarabelle approached, staggering with the weight of a blender she held in both arms.  
  
           “Do you need one of these?” the blue haired girl asked.  
  
           “…A blender?”  
  
           “No,” Clarabelle said, laughing. “I mean this.” She struggled for a moment, shifting her arms so her right one completely held the blender. With her left, she removed a pipette from her jeans pocket and held it out to Skulduggery.  
  
           He took it. “I do, actually. Thank you, Clarabelle.”  
  
           She beamed. “I’m making a milkshake. Do you want one?”  
  
           “I’ll pass.”  
  
           “Suit yourself.” She walked away, the unraveled cord of blender swinging around her legs.  
  
           Skulduggery watched her for a moment, feeling slightly concerned, before forcing himself to look back down at his work. He twisted off the cap of the vial, pushing the tip of the pipette to the bottom, where Valkyrie’s blood sat, perfectly red.  
  
            Skulduggery hesitated. He would have to go all the way back to Haggard to get more of her blood – and it hadn’t been easy, for either of them, in the first place. He flipped open the leather bound book and picked up one of the loose pages he had tucked between the cover and front page. It was entirely in Danish, but he was sure he had the gist of it. Relatively sure.  
  
             It was a little over two hundreds year old and came from a mage who had, apparently, been ever so slightly obsessed. The man who had sold him the book had informed Skulduggery that the mage’s daughter had been taken by mermaids, and he spent the week before she would be lost to him observing everything he could, writing down everything he saw and observed, in his attempt to save her. It was, the man boasted, the only cure he had seen in all of his years of bookselling, and had been stolen and recovered twice.  
  
           When Skulduggery asked whether or not it worked, the man could only shrug. Skulduggery had handed him the money anyway, desperate. It was an informative read, at the least, and interesting, despite the language barrier. But it had lacked a real ending, almost as the man had lost interest in writing.  
  
           The last page – the one Skulduggery held in his hand – was mostly a list of ingredients. The label was hard to translate – it had the word for mermaids, which he could recognize easily now, and the word ‘stop’, and one he figured was some form of ‘to be”. ‘To stop being a mermaid, follow these easy instructions’. It held potential as an infomercial.  
  
           He read it, and then read it again. What worried him was the description of mermaid’s blood. The number was scribbled and smudged – it was difficult to tell if it was two or three drops. He peered at the test tube. He could always put in two drops, and, if had not yet exploded, add a third.  
  
           …It was the best he could do, in this situation. Taking Clarabelle’s pipette, he took the blood from the vial. His hands were thankfully steady – they had started to shake this morning, after going the entire night without stopping, and it had been really annoying – and he could drop her blood in, slowly, carefully.  
  
           As soon as the second drop hit, the entire thing sizzled. Skulduggery pulled his hand back – the entire thing gained in heat between his gloved fingers, and smoked, color darkening rapidly. It settled on a midnight blue. Skulduggery hesitated, looking at the other vial, and then shook his head. No sense risking it, he thought. Besides. She had plenty of blood already.  
  
           The test tube was red hot in his fingers, and while it didn’t particularly bother him, he thought it was best to let it settle.  
  
           He replaced the test tube in its holder and looked up – to find Clarabelle again, staring at him.  
  
           “That’s cool,” she said. “Can I have some of that for my milkshake?”  
  
           “I’m afraid not.”  
  
           “Oh. Okay. Can I use this, then?” She grabbed the other vial before he could protest and brought it over to her own lab table, which sat her blender (plugged into the wall) a carton of milk, and a small container of ice cream. She placed it down and smiled, before turning and walking out of the room, mumbling something about sprinkles.  
  
           Skulduggery picked up the book from his coat, flipping it open again. He turned the pages, and then hesitated. Slowly, he walked over to Clarabelle’s table, and quietly replaced the vial she had taken from him with an empty one.  
  
           There. He had done his good deed of the day.  
  
           He returned to his table and the book, keeping a non-existent eye on Valkyrie’s test tube, which was now hissing gently. He supposed now was a better time than any for some light reading.  
\--  
  
           Skulduggery had skimmed the journal the night before, after he had spoken to Valkyrie and felt the need to do something productive, something to take his mind off Valkyrie, the way he had barely recognized her, how her touch burned through the skin he didn't have. Now he sat on top of the lab table, smartphone with a translation app open balanced on his knee, carefully holding the journal in both hands. Faint humming and the sound of a blender whirling served as white noise as Skulduggery began to read, lightly penciling in a translation as he went.  
  
           The mage – Skulduggery had dubbed him Hans, as his name was never given, and it seemed probable  – had lived in a tiny village, sheltered from the war but plagued by a population of mermaids. They had drowned Hans’s wife, leaving him alone with his daughter, Anna. The words were dry and informative, at least in broken English. Anna was noted to be fourteen and “admittedly plain”, when she wandered too close to the shore, leaving her with a bite on her ankle and a bruise with a description that matched Valkyrie’s perfectly. (Skulduggery supposed the only reason  _she_  hadn’t been bitten on the ankle was because of her boots. That made him feel slightly better.)  
  
           Hans had taken Anna to a shallow tide pool, walking with her whenever he could, detailing every thing he noticed about her as she changed. Skulduggery didn’t need to read it. What was interesting to him was Anna's sudden inability to cry, even when she told her father not to leave her alone, and the encounter of the man that had rejected Anna becoming suddenly enamored as soon as he saw her again. He thought, unwillingly, of Hansard, and then dismissed the thought.  
  
           What was concerning was him was the descriptions of Anna’s moodswings. Vicious, sudden, increasing in frequency as the days passed. Hans faint hand declared she was becoming “one of them”, unrecognizable as the sweet daughter he had known. He had previously believed isolating him from the others would have saved her, but "the change seemed inevitable - a simple fact of nature".  
  
           This was the point where Hans got desperate. He had visited the apothecary in the middle of the night, and assembled his cure. Skulduggery could relate. "My daughter is lost to me,’ he wrote, several times over, letters shaky and distorted.  
  
            The next page was the cure – plain and simple, and opposite the page was simply the sentence, "It has worked, and our concerns are over.”  
  
           Rather a morbid way to phrase a happy ending.  
  
           Skulduggery slowly put the book down and shut it. There was something, he thought, off about this entire thing. But he was tired, and nearly out of time, and the cure beside him was done smoking.  
  
           If it didn’t work, he knew he had no other chance.  
  
           So he wouldn’t let himself think of any other possibility.  
  
           Taking the cure between his thumb and forefinger, he slid carefully off the table. Clarabelle was sitting up on her own, holding a mug with a cow on it in both hands. She peered at him.  
  
           “Are you leaving now?”  
  
           “I am.” He paused. “Should I leave the light on?”  
  
           Clarabelle considered it. “Yes,” she said at last. “That would be nice.”  
  
           “Fine,” Skulduggery said, walking towards the exit.  
  
           “Good luck,” she chirped, even though he hadn’t told her why he was there. ...Or anything, for that matter.  
  
          "Thank you," he said softly. He hoped he wouldn't need it.  
  
---  
  
 


	10. Take it from Me

           Valkyrie stared.  
  
           Darcy’s hold on her arm hadn’t lessened, but Valkyrie knew how to break it, how to make her let go in three seconds flat. The other girl knew nothing, was even holding her bicep so her nails wouldn’t get into the skin. It would have been easy to release herself.  
  
           But still she stared.  
  
           “What the hell,” she said, very slowly, “is going on, Darcy?”  
  
           “How about you tell me something first, Valkyrie?” her voice was cool, reasonable. “Why are you going to the surface?”  
  
           “Why are you following me there?”  
  
           Darcy eyes narrowed. “I’m worried about you.”  
  
           Valkyrie laughed, looking at where Darcy held her arm. “Yeah,” she said, “I can see that.”  
  
           “I’m making sure you don’t do something stupid.”  
  
           Valkyrie raised an eyebrow, and then twisted her arm until Darcy released her, wincing and holding her wrist.  
  
           “You’re going to have to trust me, then,” Valkyrie said, and pulled back and crossed her arms.  
  
           Darcy stared her down. It was impressive and a little funny, with her mane of frizzy brown hair floating around her. Not for the first time, Valkyrie wondered what kind of girl Darcy was before she had been transforming. She had always thought she had been some sort of quiet, friendly, book-ish type. Now she wasn’t so sure.  
  
           “You’re going to get yourself in trouble, Valkyrie.”  
  
           “With you?”  
  
           Her laugh was hard. “No. Someone else is going to clue in to these trips. And unless you’re planning on drowning either of those men, you might want to cut it off. The blond’s not having any of it, and the skeleton… well, maybe, but I don’t think he needs to breathe.”  
  
           Valkyrie bristled at the first part and didn’t even bother to decode the second. “No, I’m not trying to drown them,” she said, fighting to keep her voice even, “and I’m not planning on drowning anyone anytime soon.”  
  
           “So you’re wasting time on a cure, then.”  
  
           “I’m not  _wasting my time_.”  
  
           Darcy smiled without kindness. “Yeah. Right. Let me show you something.” She flipped end over end to change direction in the water, and then began swimming.  
  
           Valkyrie pushed herself backward, hesitant, then bit her lip and followed the brunette.  
  
  
\--  
  
           Every thirty seconds Darcy would look over her shoulder to make sure Valkyrie was still following her. Valkyrie herself was starting to worry she was going straight into a trap. Some sort of mermaid ambush.  …Well, another one. She just hoped whatever this was wouldn’t make her late for Skulduggery.  
  
           She had already given up any hope of finding Hansard’s cargo.  
  
           “Valkyrie,” Darcy said, red tail cutting through the water, “have you thought about how many of us there are here?”  
  
           Valkyrie made a face behind her. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”  
  
           “It’s a question. If a cure was easy to get, or if one that was easy to get actually worked, why would we be here at all?”  
  
           “Because you’re all weirdo-nudists?”  
  
           Darcy sighed. She swam down a gap and Valkyrie followed. Normally she’d have been exhausted by this point – over forty five minutes of straight swimming – but she was doing fine. Once the other mermaid swam through a tiny gap between rocks, though, her stomach churned. She closed her eyes tightly and squeezed between them, the slipperiness of her tail helping her slide right through. At least that little trait was good for something.  
  
           She forced her eyes open once she was safely through and could feel open water around her – and gasped.  
  
           “This is what you were looking for, right?” Darcy said, hands twisting through her hair. Around her were stacks of shiny metal crates, some opened but most untouched, all stamped with Hansard’s family crest. They were haphazard, most looking like they had fallen into place and then left untouched.  
  
           “How did you…” Valkyrie sputtered, looking around.  
  
           “I asked Beth after you went off this morning. She was there when you got bitten. I asked her why you were here in the first place, and she said it was… this.” She gestured, clearly not understanding what she was looking at.  
  
           “I thought no one talked to you,” Valkyrie said, working through her shock. There were a lot of shiny things around them. It was a good thing she didn’t have pockets, else she’d be tempted.  
  
           “Beth is different,” Darcy snapped.  
  
           Valkyrie pulled back against the rock, putting a hand up. “Okay, sorry, sorry.” She stared up. She could see straight to the surface. “…But, seriously, why take me here? Isn’t that sort of… opposite of what you’re going for?”  
  
           “I’m offering you this. If you…”  
  
           “Give up trying to be cured? Seriously? Why the hell are you so  _hell bent_  on this?”  
  
           “Because you don’t need to be disappointed. It’s better this way. You’ll be a lot happier, trust me.”  
  
           “Darcy,” Valkyrie said, pushing herself up and against on a rock so she was halfway sitting on it. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but you’re  _miserable_. You can’t talk because a bunch of fish people will yell at you if you do, and apparently all you do for fun is stalk your new friends so you can tell them they’re making bad life choices. Why the hell would I want to live that kind of life? I have a family and a best friend and a job that I love. I’m not going to give that up. I’m going to fight like hell for it. So what gives--”  
  
           “You need to listen to me,” Darcy hissed, starting to move towards her, and Valkyrie pushed her hand out and splayed her fingers, patience gone. A wave of water hit Darcy, pressing her down against a cargo crate on her stomach. She struggled, but she couldn’t move.  
  
           Water magic had never been that easy before for her, and Valkyrie was momentarily stunned. It took her a minute to remember she was going to say something.  
  
           “No, you listen to  _me_. I don’t want you telling me what to do. I don’t want your terrible advice, or to hear what you think is a waste of time. I can handle this just fine on my own. So back off.”  
  
           “You’re going to get yourself hurt,” she spoke through her teeth, still pinned. She had to twist her head at an awkward angle to get eye contact, her hair in her eyes. “And I’m not going to help you. I can’t. I  _won’t_.”  
  
           “I wasn’t expecting you to,” Valkyrie said, raising her eyebrows, wondering what she wasn’t telling her.  
  
           Darcy gave up struggling and slumped, arms tucked underneath her head. “What, really? No invite to see the sea witch?”  
  
           “…Do you really have one of those?”  
  
           Darcy scoffed, the sound muffled. Valkyrie let up slightly, hand pulling back through the water.  
  
           “As much as I appreciate all of this,” said Valkyrie, “I have to, you know, actually get cured.”  
  
           “It’s not going to work. No one here will want anything to do with this. Trust me.  And there’s no one out  _there_  who can help you.”  
  
           “Then you haven’t met Skulduggery,” she said simply.  
  
           Darcy made a mocking noise. “Mermaids have been around since people starting sailing the seas. God knows how many hundreds of people have tried a cure and failed. Do you really think that one person, this Skulduggery, will able to do it?”  
  
           “Yes,” Valkyrie answered immediately, moving her hand. She had kept her phone tight in her fist the entire time, and now revealed it to take a few photos. (Not super easy, one handed.)  
  
           “What are you doing?” Darcy asked, craning her neck. “Is… is that a mobile phone?”  
  
           “Getting photos so we can come back here,” Valkyrie replied. “And yes. Don’t try to move again or I’ll throw it at your head.”  
  
           “What do you mean, 'come back'?”  
  
           “Wait, did you seriously think I wasn’t going to take this information, Darcy? Tip: don’t offer your bribe until your deal is made.” She took a few dozen photos and then turned her phone off.  
  
           Darcy was silent, still pressed down.  
  
           Valkyrie looked down at her. “You know, I thought we were friends. I was going to miss you. I thought you were cool. And a genuinely sweet girl. But you’re like the rest of them. You’re nasty and selfish and all around a bad person, Darcy. I’m not really one to talk, but at least  _I’m_  up front about it. What was the point of pretending to be my friend? Being nice to me?”  
  
           Darcy said nothing.  
  
           “Yeah. Well. Good luck with whatever you plan on doing. It’s been fun.” She hesitated, looking down at Darcy’s thin form, silently glaring up at her, surrounded by the cargo. “And don’t try to follow me again.”  
  
           She kicked off and away before releasing her hold on Darcy, propelling herself away before she could even try to catch up to her.  
  
---  
  
 

  
          It was overcast when Valkyrie surfaced, her hair in her face, wet strands plastering her cheeks and forehead. She pulled her hair back with one hand and squinted, looking at the beach. Despite the weather, there were still teens milling around. Probably not the best place to transform back into a teenage girl, she thought, forlorn. Sighing, she dropped her hand back into the water with a little splash.  
   
          Her phone suddenly buzzed and she jolted in the water, nearly dropping it. Her thumb slid over the button to answer.  
   
          “Should you really be answering your phone in the middle of the ocean?”  
   
          She sighed directly into the receiver. “You can see me?”  
   
          “Yes,” he answered. She waved, and then felt stupid.  
   
          “Where are you?”  
   
          “On the side of the pier by your house. There’s an area that’s blocked off, secluded. Probably will be safe.”  
   
          Valkyrie thought for a moment, and then recalled the spot.  
   
          “Not that one!”  
   
          “Why not? It’s secluded and close by. It’s perfect.”  
   
          “But there’s crabs there,” she protested, a slight whine to her voice.  
   
          “So?”  
   
          “So, from the guy who doesn’t have any skin to pinch.”  
   
          “I’ll protect you from any terrifying crabs the size of your thumb nail.”  
   
          “You better. They’re not so tiny when there are three dozen of them.”  
   
          He sighed overdramatically. “I will do my best.”  
   
          “My hero.”  
   
          She hung up and swam one-armedly  to the meet up spot, keeping her head under and avoiding the few bizarre teens in the water that afternoon. She lay on the sand bed for a few minutes before she heard the sound of Skulduggery approaching, and she turned to watch him gracefully slide down the sand to stand in the center of the area.  
   
          He appraised it quietly, kicking away a soda can. “This is less vacant than I thought it’d be.”  
   
          “Kids come here to make out.”  
   
          “Despite the killer crabs?”  
   
          “Despite the killer crabs.”  
   
          “And you would know this because…?”  
   
          Valkyrie scoffed. “Caelan would never come this close to sea water, if that’s you trying to be subtle.”  
   
          “Never subtle, just nosy,” Skulduggery said, sounding pleased. “And Fletcher?”  
   
          “He had nicer spots to take me,” she said, a tad wistfully. Skulduggery looked less pleased.  
   
          Valkyrie smirked, and rolled herself over onto her stomach, fanning her tail, trying to catch a ray of sunshine. She caught Skulduggery staring, and then ducked her head awkwardly.  
   
          “Trying to transform back.” Her fins curled, and she frowned, groaning. “It’s too overcast. You’re going to have to help me out of the water.”  
   
          Skulduggery tilted his head at her. “You’re soaking wet.”  
   
          “Comes with being a mermaid. Get over it. You. Me. Help.”  
   
          There was a brief stare down, and then Skulduggery sighed, removing his suit jacket and hat, putting them down on a rock, neatly folded. He unbuttoned his sleeve cuffs, almost making a show of it, and then rolled them up.  
   
          Valkyrie lifted her arms out of instinct, but he ignored them, his arm dipping into the water and under her, one around her tail and his other hand against her back.  
   
          “I really do like this shirt,” he muttered into her ear. “And getting the sea water out…”  
   
          “Don’t be a baby. It’s just clothing.”  
   
          “Says the person without a shirt.”  
   
          “Says the person I’m  _letting_ see my boobs,” she retorted.  
   
          “And I thank you for that,” Skulduggery replied. She couldn’t tell whether or not he was joking.  
   
          Water poured off her hair and tail in torrents. Skulduggery suddenly dipped, pretending to almost drop her, and Valkyrie shrieked and clutched at his shirt.  
   
          “Sorry,” he said, sounding anything but. “You’re slippery.”  
   
          She glowered at him until he put her down on a low rock, flat on her back. He pulled away and then paused, one knee resting against the rock face.  
   
          “What?” She said, defensively, crossing her arms over her chest.  
   
          Skulduggery hesitated. “You’re heavier than you were the last time I did that.”  
   
          “Probably because of the several hundred pieces of fish armor I’m sporting.” She paused. “When was the last time?”  
   
          “When you rescued me,” he said, still kneeling.  
            
          “You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”  
   
          Skulduggery considered this. “You have a point. You do have a knack for rescuing me from various situations. I meant the Faceless Ones' Realm, in this case.”  
   
          “Oh. Right. When you grabbed me and then jumped off a building.”  
   
          “To my credit, I could fly.”  
   
          “And I  _couldn’_ t.”  
   
          “Also to my credit, I didn’t actually think you were real.”  
             
          Valkyrie scowled. “You don’t sound very grateful.”  
             
          “I’m showing my gratitude by rescuing you  _this_  time around.”  
   
          Valkyrie scoffed. “Right, good luck with that. I’ll probably have to rescue you from terrifying mermaids.”  
   
          “Killer mermaids?”  
   
       “Tour guides,” Valkyrie corrected.  
   
          “I should have listened to you in the first place,” Skulduggery said, and Valkyrie could hear the smile in his voice.  
   
          “It’ll be your undoing, Mr. Pleasant,” she said solemnly. “Now. Gimme the cure before I see a crab.”  
   
She shifted onto her side with difficulty so she could watch as he removed a vial from his jacket.  
   
          He held it out to her without a word.  
   
          “Wait, is that it?”  
             
          “I could put it in a syringe if that’d be more impressive.”  
   
          Valkyrie cringed. “What’s the alternative?”  
   
          “Drinking it.”  
   
          She quailed. “But it has my  _blood_ in it!”  
   
          “Then it goes right back where it came from,” Skulduggery said matter-of-factly, pressing it into her unwilling fingers.  
   
          Valkyrie stared at him, open mouthed. “Do you not understand the digestive system at all?”  
   
          He shrugged. “Most developments in biology came after they were no longer relevant to me.”  
             
          “Not a good enough excuse,” she muttered, uncorking the vial with her teeth. There was no smell coming from it, and she wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.  
   
          “Well,” she said, forcing back any fear or hesitation. “Bottoms up.”  
   
          Skulduggery leaned against a rock, keeping a careful eye on her as she raised the vial to her lips.  
   
          “Just a sip at first,” he said, holding a hand out to stop her. “Just in case.”  
   
          “I trust you,” she said,  lowering it,  smiling softly. “But the less of this I have to drink, the better.” She pinched her nose with one hand and used the other to slowly tip the contents of the vial into her mouth.  
   
          She was startled by the sweetness. She almost took a second sip out of instinct, but forced it back and away from her mouth. Valkyrie’s gaze dropped to her scales, and she tensed, waiting for something.  
             
          A long moment passed.  
   
          “Well, that was unev-” she suddenly cut herself off, choking. Valkyrie couldn’t breathe. Her hands went to her throat, and she could feel her gills contracting. Her vision swam. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t  _breathe_. She had no trouble breathing in water before, or air, but now she choked for a breath, hands grasping her throat. She writhed, losing all awareness and sense of time.  
   
          Skulduggery’s voice was too faint to focus on, until his hand hit her squarely in the back. Something in her clicked, and she coughed violently, spitting out the aquamarine substance into the sand. It landed, bubbling and sizzling.  
   
          She was still coughing a minute later, nose running but eyes dry, and she rubbed gingerly at her neck, which felt like it had melted and reformed in her skin. It was just now cooling down, and really really itched.  
   
          “What the hell was that?” she sputtered. Skulduggery didn’t answer, so she continued her rant. “It was getting rid of the gills, sure, by  _choking_  me.  What kind of crackpot came up with this? Cure mermaids by killing them, that’s great.” She looked down. “Didn’t even get rid of any scales. Great.  Not that I blame you, you were just trying to help me, but…” She trailed off. Skulduggery wasn’t even looking at her. He was paging through a worn book he had removed from his jacket with desperation, and something about it the way he looked made her shiver.  
   
          “Skulduggery?”  
   
          Somehow he didn’t seem to hear her. “He knew.” He was quiet, but the horror in his voice was clear. “He knew what he was doing, and, and, Anna…”  
   
           “Skulduggery, are you… are you okay?” She waved her hand to get his attention, and at last he turned, slightly, and went quiet.  
   
          “I almost killed you,” he said, voice low. “I almost  _killed you_ , Valkyrie.” She could feel him avoiding her gaze, even without eyes.  
   
          “You didn’t know,” she said immediately, shaking her head. “Skulduggery, I’m totally fine, we’ll figure out something else.”  
   
          He went back to talking to himself as if she had never spoken. “I should have known better. If I hadn’t been so stupid, so  _distracted_ …”  
             
          “Skulduggery,” she said, voice almost pleading. He paced back and forth, facing away from her. “It was nothing. I’ve been in worse scrapes. It’s not your fault, you were just trying to help me-” she was incredibly confused, but all she wanted him to do was stop looking so guilty. He had hurt her worse before – as Vile, granted – and she was sure he had done some serious damage in training before.  
  
          Though she never had brushed that closely with death before as a result of something he had done. The realization was unnerving, and she forced herself to remember that she was totally okay. She didn’t need to encourage Skulduggery's weird behavior.  
             
          But all he did was mutter to himself and page through that book – she had no idea what the hell it was or where it came from. And who the hell was Anna? She had half a mind to wrestle it from his hands and throw it into the water. She leaned over to peer through the opening of the enclosement, gauging the distance from the open sea, and then flinched.  
   
          For a second she thought she saw a mermaid tail breaking the surface.  
   
          Swallowing hard, she let her heartbeat slow back down. Skulduggery was already panicking over nothing, she didn’t have to as well.  
   
          But she kept staring at the sea regardless, unable to look away.  
             
          There was another one, arcing gracefully out of the water. This time, bright red in color. Darcy.  
   
          “Shit,” she whispered. Skulduggery jerked his head around.  
   
          “It’s them. The mermaids, they must have…” She shook her head. “But I was being so careful!” Valkyrie ran a hand through her hair, frenzied, and then the realization hit.  
  
           She swore loudly. “Darcy must have told them.” She should have known. God, how could she be so stupid?  
   
          Valkyrie decided what she needed to do very quickly. She picked up her phone beside her and quickly forwarded all the photos of the cargo to Skulduggery. “Send those to Hansard,” she said, yanking on his shirtsleeve to get his attention. I have to go now, but that should be enough to hold him ov-”  
   
          “What?”  
   
          Valkyrie fought to keep the impatience (and fear) out of her voice. “I have to go settle this, otherwise they’ll come after you and everything will get a whole lot worse. I’ll be fine. Just give these to Hansard and-”  
   
          “Absolutely not.” Skulduggery said, and she yanked hard on his sleeve before he could say anything else.  
   
          “Would you stop interrupting? Like I just said, I’ll be able to handle myself. And you need to get Hansard off our backs.”  
   
          “What I need to do is get you cured,” he said, twisting his arm around so he held her wrist instead, “and back home safely.”  
   
          The girl glowered at him. “And you’ll have an easier time without having to keep an eye on me.” She took a glance back at the water, and cringed. They were way too close now.  
   
          “Valkyrie…”  
   
          She forced a smile. “I’ll be just fine. I’ll be back before you know it and you can inject me with all the scary needles you want.” She started to pull away, her slippery hand sliding down until her hand clasped hers.  
   
          Skulduggery looked at her and then squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back.  
   
          “Be careful,”  she said, letting go.  
   
          “You too.”  
   
          Valkyrie wiggled her shoulders and then dived off the rock, landing in the water and swimming down as fast as she could to meet her little welcoming party.  
   
          This was not going to end well.  
  
---  
  
 


	11. this is not a chapter

and it ends on a cliff hanger because i'm a jerk, BYE

okay this fic was a lot of work and im sad it never got to be complete but lsodm jossed it and I didn't have time and was losing interest, etc etc. in short: val almost completely turns, goes all evil fish lady when skul tries to save her one last time, darcy turns around and provides the ACTUAL cure (which was a tear from a fully realized, unable to be human again mermaid) and the day is saved, yay, except darcy is stuck forever and skulduggery promises to tell her parents about her.

also hansard accidentally walks in to skulduggery and a half naked val and very quickly walks out

i have more old fic to upload in shame, goodbye


End file.
